Lois Lane's Rules of Reporting
by StarryDreamer01
Summary: Lois Lane has seven rules to reporting. Those seven rules will lead her and Clark Kent toward their respective destinies.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Each chapter to this story will start off with a brief article that will give you insight into what is in store for Lois and/or Clark, followed by an A/U version of their relationship journey. Each chapter is modeled after one of Lois's rules of reporting spotted in S8's episode "Hex". See if you can spot the connection to the chapter ;-)

Please leave reviews. It really does encourage me to continue.

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**.::Rule 1: Always know your source::.**

**METROPOLIS HERO OR GOTHAM VIGILANTE? MYSTERIOUS BLUR STRIKES AGAIN  
**By Lois Lane (additional reporting by Clark Kent)

The day had started out as any other for Clarissa Clemmens; little did she realize that it would end like no other. The mother of two had entered Metropolis First National Bank to open an account for her youngest; little Cassandra had hoped to deposit her first $10 as a down payment toward a new bike. Instead, Clemmens and her daughter were held at gunpoint, the newest victims of the Metropolis Mayhem.

"It was scary as all hell," declared Clemmens, 38, her eyes welling with tears. "They came in with masks on and pointed their guns at us. I was so scared."

Lincoln, Nixon, Clinton. Their masks reveled in presidential history. Guns loaded with high caliber bullets, their intention was clear: get as much money as possible and kill any one who tried to stop them.

The Mayhem had successfully stolen over $6 million dollars from the Capital Bank of Metropolis and the Kansas Union Bank this past month, their getaway strategy seemingly flawless. All three would charge in to the bank with one bandit hitting the door security guard using the back end of his gun. The second would aim toward witnesses while the third collected money from the tellers. Once their funds were secured a canister of smoke would envelope the bank leaving behind their signature "MM" engraved in to the marble floors.

However, Clemmens and the other 23 patrons of the Metropolis First National Bank were lucky. As they'd crouched on the floor, heads hidden in their arms and tears streaming down young Cassandra's face, a gust of wind seemed to encircle them. When Clemmens finally looked up, having heard the faint wail of police sirens, she found the three presidential bandits caught in a web of steel, the wiring of the intricately crafted Pinoet sculpture in the lobby encasing them.

Not one managed to catch a glimpse of the windy warrior. Speculation abounds that Gotham's vigilante hero Batman has landed in Metropolis, employing the shadows to conceal his identity.

Not so, confides Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham Police Department. "Batman may be strong and he may be fast, but he's certainly not operating in broad daylight, much less bending steel faster than the speed of light."

Many are calling on District Attorney Ray Sacks to haul the blurred crusader in for questioning. Sacks, a proponent of the soon-to-be passed Disabled Powers Legislation, warned "that any vigilante behaviour- especially when used in conjunction with meteor powers- will no longer be tolerated."

While some challenge the intentions of the blurry wonder, to Clarissa Clemens her experience speaks for itself. "He's a hero," Clemens stated. "Plain and simple. He saved us all. Meteor power or not, he's a hero."

If only those at the Capitol felt the same.

**...:::...**

"Another above the fold, Smallville," Lois declared slapping the latest addition of the Daily Planet on to Clark's desk. "If you weren't so busy getting cats out of trees or fixing tractors…you too might get your own byline." She gave him a wink and took her seat at the desk across from him.

Clark smiled and pushed his dark rimmed glasses up his nose. "Congratulations Lois. Perry better start making room for you on the 10th floor."

"Damn straight he'd better." She leaned below her desk and pushed the button to turn her computer on. As the screen began to load, Lois flipped through a stack of weathered pink messages scattered across her desk.

"'Nuther one for ya, Lois," said a dark haired intern, as he rushed by holding a message scrawled across a similarly styled pink notepaper.

"When the hell is the voice mail service going to start working again?" She muttered to herself, as she picked up the phone and began to return the messages. "You'd think it was 1977."

"I'm sure they'll get it fixed soon, Lois. It's not a big deal." Clark said, straightening his shoulders. "I kind of like that someone's answering the phone when we're not here. It lets people feel like there's someone listening on the other side."

Lois chuckled and shook her head, bringing the phone to her ear. "You're so… whimsical Clark Kent." She held her finger up, motioning for him to hold on. "Yes, District Attorney Sacks, please… Lois Lane from the Daily Planet." She paused, her eyebrows furrowed. Clark grimaced; he knew that look. "What do you mean he's in a meeting? He called me! I have his message right here on a stupid pink slip of paper… Well you can let D.A. Sacks know that Lois Lane will not be writing any support pieces about the Disabled Powers Legislation, thank you very much. And if he's looking for a propaganda puppet he can try Catherine Grant at _Good Morning, Metropolis_."

Clark tilted his head and gave Lois a warned look.

"What?" She mouthed in return, shrugging her shoulders. "That's right," she continued in to the phone. "L-A-N-E. From the Daily Planet… You're welcome," she finished with a flourish, returning the phone to its cradle.

"Lois…" Clark cautioned.

"Don't 'Lois' me, Smallville. Sometimes you got to stand up for what you believe in," she defended, balling up the message and tossing it in to the trash.

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't stand up for what you believe in, Lois. I just think that maybe you should do it… more diplomatically?" He suggested.

"Diplomacy only gets you so far, Clark. At some point you've got to bring out the big guns to get people to stand up and listen to ya."

"Did the General teach you that?" Clark asked.

"Actually the Godfather trilogy."

He chuckled at her response and shook his head. "I can never win with you, can I?"

"Got another, Lane." The dark haired intern crossed the floor of the basement's bullpen and tossed a red envelope on to her desk. "Next time pick up your own damn messages."

"Next time bet on the Topeka Ravens and maybe it'll be me handing _you_ messages." she challenged, tearing at the envelope.

Clark watched as she pulled the blue cardstock from the envelope and held his breath.

Noting the faraway glint to Lois' eyes as she stared at the message, he dared himself to question her. "Good news?"

"Hm?" She asked, distant.

"Your message," he said, motioning toward the paper she griped in her hand. "Good news?"

Lois faintly attempted to guard her impulsively driven smile. "Something like that," she replied vaguely, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Clark narrowed his eyes and studied her reaction. In many ways it pained him to watch her moon over his alter ego, to watch her failing attempts at concealing her attraction to the Blur through headlines in the Daily Planet. In other ways, it allowed him the rare opportunity to watch her react to his saves uncensored.

Lois pulled back from her daydream and turned her focus toward her computer, beginning to tackle the onslaught of emails that awaited her in her inbox.

Clark cleared his throat. "I was wondering…" he began nervously as Lois tapped away at her keyboard.

"How do you spell 'consistently'?" She asked absently.

He shook his head in confusion. "What?"

Lois looked up from her screen. "Consistently. How do you spell it? I must've spelled it so wrong that the spell check won't correct it."

Clark inwardly groaned in frustration, begrudgingly spelling the word for her.

"Thanks," she replied with a short smile, returning to her emails.

"Lois. I was wondering…" He began again.

"Hm?" She muttered distracted, tucking a pencil between her teeth.

"I was wondering," Clark swallowed in a deep breath. "Would you… I mean, if you're not busy tonight…"

"_Calling all officers in the area of Main and Fourth._" The police scanner that sat between them sprung to life. "_10-27 in progress at Metropolis First National Bank. Possible 10-17, proceed with caution._"

Lois' eyes widened, the pencil falling from her mouth. "10-27?" She said with a wicked grin.

"Robbery," Clark confirmed, attempting to mask his disappointment at the interruption.

"And a hostage situation," she finished excitedly, grabbing her purse and heading toward the bullpen's stairs. "This'll be front page again, I'm sure-." As Lois stepped on to the first landing she turned to look at Clark, only to find no one behind her.

"Clark?" She called out scanning the basement bullpen to no avail. Clark was no where to be found. Lois absently shrugged her shoulders and continued up the stairs. "Probably had a Chinese food craving or something…" she muttered to herself.

**...:::...**

"Nothing to see here Lane, move along," barked Detective Mills.

"Nothing to see? There was a robbery and hostage situation. You can't tell me there's 'nothing to see,'" Lois said emphatically, squaring her shoulders. She lowered her voice and continued. "Besides you owe me a favour after I kept your name out of the paper when that illegal massage parlor got closed."

The detective scowled, grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the police line that was bustling with reporters. "Fine," he conceded. "You always get your way, don't you?"

"Something like that. So whatcha got?"

"We'd been tailing the Metropolis Mayhem for weeks- we figured that this would be the next place they'd hit so we had extra detail nearby. But this one was different…"

"Different how?" Lois asked, leaning closer.

"We were literally seconds away. We got the page on the silent alarm and our boys were on it…"

"But-?"

"When we got here we found the Mayhem guys tied up in that fancy sculpture they got in the lobby."

"The Pinoet?" She asked confused.

"Yeah, that one."

"But it's made of wrought iron! How is that even possible?"

"Don't ask me. But that lady over there—" Detective Mills pointed toward a thirty-something woman with a young girl who was being interviewed by another officer. "She swears she felt a gust of wind go through the place."

"The Blur…"

"Looks like it." He looked over his shoulder and turned back to Lois. "Billy over there thinks it was that bat character from Gotham."

"The Batman?" Lois asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, him. I dunno. Gotham's a little far off if you ask me." Detective Mills began to step away from Lois, realizing that some of the other officers were beginning to take notice of him. "Listen Lane, I gotta go. I can't be seen talking to you like this. You're going to get me in trouble one of these days."

"It's been a pleasure as always, Mills," she called out loudly as she backed away. "Say hello to your lovely wife for me."

"You're a real peach, you know that Lane?" He retorted sarcastically. "If I see you again, it'll be too soon."

Lois chuckled and pulled out her phone to call in her headline.

"Hey—hey Lois," a voice called out from behind her. Startled, Lois turned to find Clark pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Smallville! There you are!" She tucked her phone between her ear and her shoulder. "Your tie's crooked again."

Clark watched sheepishly as Lois pulled at his tie, straightening it.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked.

"I'm just calling in the story now," she said, pressing a number in to her key pad. "Ugh! The stupid answering service must be still down. The lines are all busy."

"We could always just go back to the Planet and file it the old fashioned way."

"I still need to interview—," Lois turned to point out the woman she'd seen being interviewed a few minutes earlier and instead found the officer writing in his notebook, alone. "Sunnava…! I must've just missed her."

"Who? Mrs. Clemmens?" Clark asked. Noting Lois' confused look he continued, "blonde woman with a little girl?"

"You? _You_ got an interview with her?"

"Yeah, she was standing there so I asked her a couple of questions."

"What'd she say?" Lois asked suspiciously. "And—how did you get here so fast anyway? The last time I saw you, you were at the Planet."

"I took a cab," Clark replied innocently.

"A cab?" She asked unbelieving. Clark nodded, as Lois stared at him unconvinced. She shook her head. "Whatever, Smallville. What did Clemmens tell you anyway?"

"Basically she felt wind, looked up and saw the robbers in the sculpture."

"Did she think it was the Blur?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. But bending metal?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Lois said expertly, walking toward her car. "Let's see if we can get our hands on the security footage. But if it's anything like the last few bank robberies, it'll probably just be a whirl nothing-ness on the screen."

As Lois opened the door to her car and slipped in to the driver's seat, Clark smiled to himself proud of having covertly put another batch of criminals behind bars.

**...:::...**

The cool night air sent a chill down Lois' spine as she pulled her coat tight across her chest. The street was mostly quiet save for the odd alley cat mewing into the darkness.

Lois tapped her foot against the concrete sidewalk at 1421 Third Street. Patience had never been one of her virtues and this night was no exception. The shrill ring of a phone broke the silence.

She quickly pulled the door to the phone booth open and grabbed at the receiver. "Hello?"

"Lois?" The deep, familiarly muffled voice of the Blur greeted her on the other end.

"Hi," she said, a faint smile pulling at her lips. "Nice save today."

"You're sure it was me?"

"Nice try, my friend. But I called Gotham just in case," Lois said. The voice chuckled in reply. "So you're pretty strong, huh? What you did with the Pinoet was impressive."

"Yeah, about that…" the voice paused. "I probably should have gone easier on the artwork…"

Lois laughed. "Truthfully? It was the ugliest piece of art in all of Kansas. I'm always telling Clark how much I hate it."

"Clark?"

"My partner… at the Daily Planet, I mean." Lois silently chastised herself for the slip.

"Oh. Well then maybe I'm not sorry I ruined it."

She chuckled softly. "So… um… how was your day?" She asked, her face reddening at the ridiculousness of her question.

The voice chuckled. "It was… different. Truthfully, Lois?"

"Yeah?"

"These days things have been hard what with the new legislation about to be passed. I've been trying to do my best to show Sacks that us… uh, metahumans or aliens or whatever the government is calling us these days—we're just like everyone else, but with powers."

"But it's those powers that the government is afraid of," Lois countered tentatively.

"Yes, but if they're used properly and responsibly they can help the world. Together we can ensure there's justice and it will keep our cities safe."

"How do you respond to those meteor freaks that use their abilities to harm people?"

"There are always bad apples in every bunch. Just like there are criminals among the human race, there are going to be criminals who have powers and use them wrongfully. I'm doing my best to put a stop to that."

"I know you are," Lois said with certainty.

"Truthfully Lois?" The Blur continued. "Knowing that I have someone like you looking out for my reputation - for all of us - it makes it a little easier."

Lois smiled into the phone, her heart thumping nervously in her chest. Unsure of how to reply, she said instead, "can I quote you on that?"

Before he could reply the distant wail of a police siren interrupted the night's stillness. "I've got to go," he said instead. "Sorry."

"Of course," Lois replied, disappointed. "I guess I'll see you on the front page." She replaced the phone on to its cradle and looked up at the rooftops of the darkened buildings that surrounded her, secretly hoping to catch a shadowed glimpse of the Blur. It was to no avail as the smoky coloured steam from the local factory provided a disappointing cover.

Unbeknownst to Lois, beneath the haze of the steam, it was Clark that watched from above. With a small, yet determined smile he tucked his phone in to his pocket and took a last lingered look at Lois before speeding off in the direction of the sirens.

**.:: TBC ::..**


	2. Chapter 2

It seems I'm on a role this week! Thank you all for the encouraging words about this story. I'm excited to continue moving the relationship along...

**A/N:** I realize that this "rule" is a bit out of order (it is actually #4 on the real list) but I felt that it fit better as Chapter 2. I hope you enjoy. Please leave feedback!

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**..::Rule 2: If something seems too weird to be true, it probably is::..**

**'UFOs FROM MARS' HITS $50 MILLION MARK  
**By Clark Kent

The critically panned, _UFOs From Mars_ has managed to secure the attention of kids and teens across America. The film, directed by Zachary McIver, is the typical alien invasion story. Young Jeffery Marrow, a New York City college student, is thrust into the middle of an apocalyptic adventure when his dorm room is overrun by hundreds of militant green men.

_UFOs_ was made on a limited budget and it shows. The effects are typical of 1960s schlock science fiction; one could practically see the strings hanging from the saucers. But that didn't stop many Metropolitans from lining up hours before, outside the Rialto to secure their ticket to the hottest film this season.

McIver insists that he knew all along that the film would tap in to a market that has been starved for a good science fiction action film. "People forget that the under 16 market has disposable income as well," stated McIver at the Metropolis Film Festival where it premiered two weeks ago to an audience that jeered and booed its conclusion.

Despite so much criticism, analysts are predicting that _UFOs_ will become this years highest grossing film, surpassing hits like _Long Gone Winters_ and _Foxy Lady, Frozen Arctic_.

**...:::...**

"I need to speak to Lois Lane!" The voice rang out amidst the bustle of the Daily Planet newsroom. "Where can I find Lois Lane?"

"Right here," Lois called out, throwing her hand in to the air, a pencil tucked messily into her hair. "What can I do-?"

"I need your help," interrupted the woman. She looked to be in her early 40s. Her short dark hair was matted to her face, the shirttails from her blouse haphazardly hung from the waistline of her pencil skirt. "My son… He… he…" Her voice trailed as a sob caught in her throat.

"Here," offered Clark jumping from his desk. "Have a seat."

Lois leaned forward, giving Clark a sideways glance. Her reporter's intuition could smell a story brewing before her. "What happened to your son?" The myriad headlines spun before her.

_Runaway leaves mother heartbroken_

_LexCorp runs experiments on young boy_

_Mysterious illness plagues junior high student_

'Lois!" Clark gave her a warned look. "Take a deep breath," he said to the woman, his hand gently massaging her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready…"

"My son…" she began, hiccupping through the sobs. "My son was kidnapped by… by…"

Lois leaned forward. "By…?" She urged.

"By… aliens!" Spat out the woman.

Lois fell back in her chair and rolled her eyes, releasing the breath she'd been holding in. "Listen, Ms—?"

"Kristofferson."

"Right. Listen, this is the Daily Planet," she explained, annoyed. "If you want to shell out alien stories you've got to go down the street to Buldig Boulevard. I'm sure the Inquisitor would love to publish your story… Right next to the one about Big Foot's baby," she finished under her breath.

"Lois!"

"I'm confused," said the woman, looking to the two reporters. "I thought you were Lois Lane."

"I am."

"Aren't you the author of the stories on the meteor infested riverbeds in Smallville? And those strange lights over Mueller's field?"

"Yes," Lois confirmed, shooting a confused glance toward Clark.

"My son was kidnapped by aliens," Mrs. Kristofferson repeated.

Lois narrowed her eyes. "You said that already."

"Mrs. Kristofferson, it's not that we don't appreciate the community's involvement in our paper," Clark explained. "But if your son is missing, that's a matter for the police."

"You don't understand," Mrs. Kristofferson insisted. "My son isn't missing."

"But I thought you said that he was?" Questioned Clark, bewildered.

"I said he was kidnapped," she explained. "Not that he was still missing."

"So if your son isn't missing, then what seems to be the problem?"

Mrs. Kristofferson dropped her voice and leaned toward Lois. "They're here."

"Who's here?" Asked Lois, matching the woman's tone.

"The aliens."

Clark raised his eyebrows, a look of alarm shooting across his face. "Mrs. Kristofferson, I think I should show you –" He started to reach for the older woman's arm.

"Wait!" Lois called out, stopping Clark from going any further. "What makes you think there are aliens?"

Mrs. Kristofferson's green eyes traced the basement of the Daily Planet, leery of employees who could be listening in on her story. "My son," she said, beginning to pull a wrapped package from her purse. "He made this in school." She pulled the figure from beneath its coverings.

Lois frowned. "It's a clay circle."

"It's not a clay circle, Miss Lane. It's the space craft that took my son."

Lois shook her head, disappointment clear on her face. "Look, I realize that you think your son was kidnapped by aliens, but there's nothing I can do if all you have as proof is a clay circle."

"You don't understand Miss Lane," she said. "My son wasn't the only one who made one of these. All the other kids in his class made one too…"

**...:::...**

"You've got to admit Clark, it does seem rather odd," said Lois as she slipped a coffee cozy on to her paper cup, tossing an emptied sugar packet in to the nearby trash can.

"But aliens, Lois? I would think that even _you_ were beyond Inquisitor style journalism." Clark followed Lois out the doors of Remy's Café.

"You heard what she said. The entire class made those little space crafts," she shook her head. "Listen Clark, if it's a dead end, then _mea culpa_. But it can't hurt to try and see if there's any truth to this alien thing. Can you imagine if there was something to it though…?"

"Why?" Clark asked as he attempted to control his voice to keep it from sounding panicked. "What do you think would happen?"

"Imagine if there were aliens among us Clark!"

"No-o…" he stuttered.

"Oh grow up, Smallville!" She waved her hand dismissively at him. "It would be the biggest story since Roswell! Even you can't deny that fact. They'd probably give me the Pulitzer for it," she smiled at the thought. "I wonder what they look like."

"Like… little green men?"

"Maybe. But what if the little green men thing was just a cover?"

"A cover?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I bet they'd look just like me… or you for that matter."

"Me?" Squeaked Clark.

"Whatever… human. They'd probably look human. To blend or whatever it is that aliens want to do. To live among us, study us. Maybe they even wanna work at the Daily Planet!" Lois stopped in her tracks, her eyes bright with laughter.

"The Daily Planet?" Clark's heart began to pound in his chest. _Did she know? How could she know?_ His thoughts raced searching for excuses and explanations to give Lois.

"Lighten up Clark!" Lois chuckled, punching his arm lightly. "I'm just joking." She turned and looked up at the building. "Here we are: PS 135." Lois clipped her press badge to her coat as Clark pulled the door open.

**...:::...**

As they walked the halls of the school, following the directions given to them by the office secretary, Lois glanced sideways at the lopsided fish, the sloppily painted drawings and turkeys made from hand cut outs that decorated the walls.

The bell rang and the halls filled with children pushing their way past the reporters, their backpacks knocking against Lois and Clark's sides.

"Ughhh…" she groaned. "I hate kids."

Clark laughed. "You don't hate kids, Lois."

"Wanna bet?"

"Miss Lane? Mr. Kent?" A young woman asked, peering out from one of the classrooms. "I'm Nancy Nickels, Michael's teacher."

They exchanged greetings and Nancy led them in to the classroom. "Basically they had to create something out of clay," she motioned them to have a seat at the student desks. Lois snickered as she watched Clark slide into the child sized chair, his knees nearly at his chest. He shrugged sheepishly.

"For whatever reason," Nancy continued. "Every single student did theirs in a circular structure." She walked over to the side of the classroom and picked up a clay disk, identical to the one Mrs. Kristofferson had shown Lois and Clark earlier. "Honestly, it was weird."

"Could the kids have planned to all do the same figure?" Lois asked as she took the disk from Nancy.

"It's possible." She bit her lip and sighed. "But my colleague down the hall did the same activity with her kids during the exact same period and all of _them_ did the disk figure too."

"Oh." Lois furrowed her brows as she examined it further. It certainly did look like a spacecraft. "What do you think it is?" She handed the figure to Clark.

"Do you think it's what Mrs. Kristofferson said? That it's…" Nancy looked toward the door and lowered her voice. "Aliens?"

Clark took the clay figure from Lois and ran his finger along its base. "I doubt—" Clark was unable to finish his thoughts, as he was interrupted by a sudden burst of light. The room became engulfed with a bright light. The radiance emanated from the figure, seemingly pulling Clark and Lois into it.

"Clark!" Screamed Lois as she grabbed for his arm, the object pulled them inward with unbridled force. The room spun out before them, the white, brilliant light turning in to a luminescent blue and then back to white.

Clark's body hit the concrete sidewalk outside of the Daily Planet, shattering the stone beneath him. Lois' body landed with a thud against Clark, his chest softening her blow.

"Oof!" She cried out, pushing herself off of him. "Hitting you Smallville, is like hitting a metal plank." Rising to her feet, she dusted her skirt off. Her eyes wide, she stared toward the cracked sidewalk beneath Clark. "What in the world?"

"I can explain…" he offered meekly, standing up.

"Look!" Lois pointed toward the newspaper box just beyond the cracked sidewalk. The headline was different from than the one that Clark had seen earlier that morning. The date on the masthead also read months in the future.

"_Blur captured, held in kryptonite cell._ What in the world is kryptonite?" Lois asked, turning to Clark for answers.

"It's meteor rock," he replied stunned. The sudden shift in reality left him unsure of what they were experiencing and where they were. "Lois, look at the other headline." Clark pointed toward a secondary article that ran along the right side.

"_Lois Lane to marry Ray Sacks._" Lois reached out to Clark, her hand griping his arm. "_District Attorney_ Ray Sacks?"

Clark nodded slowly, just as confused. "And apparently you're getting married to him."

Lois reached into her pocket and pulled out 50 cents. She slipped the coins into the slot which released the front of the paper box. She pulled a copy out and began to skim the articles.

"The Disabled Powers Legislation has been passed by Congress," she said. "That's why the Blur's in prison. He continued to use his powers…"

"What about you and Sacks?" Clark prompted, curious at this strange turn of events.

"The article's vague. Apparently the political world is in an uproar because no one even knew we were dating. Hell, I'm the one marrying him and _I_ didn't even know!"

"Do you think that it's possible those space ship models sent us here?" Clark asked, perplexed.

"I don't think, Smallville. I know."

"I sent you here," a voice interjected. "Journalists… always giving credit where it isn't deserved."

"Hey!" Decried Lois, offended. "Where do you get off?"

"Mikhail?" Clark asked, looking at the familiar face that stared back at him. The dark hair was cut similarly, and his Eastern European accent was just as thick as he'd remembered. Could it be the same Baltic exchange student from Smallville High?

"Clark Kent. I'm glad to see you remember me."

"You know this guy?" Lois asked, shocked.

"Mikhail Mxyzptlk." He held out his hand. "It's a pleasure."

"What a mouthful," muttered Lois.

"We went to school together for a short time," Clark explained. "I thought you went back to Europe?"

"Let's just say that Lex Luthor offered me a deal I couldn't refuse. When he died, our contract expired."

"I don't suppose you know why we're in Backwards Land, do you?" Asked Lois.

"I brought you here," he replied simply. Noticing the confused looks on the two reporters' faces he continued. "I can not have this legislation pass. They have the technology to take away my powers and only you two can prevent it." Mikhail lifted his hand. "We will talk to Other Lois. She'll explain." With a snap of his fingers Lois and Clark were transported to the front steps of a Brownstone on the outskirts of Metropolis.

Without missing a beat, Mikhail pressed the doorbell.

"Wait!" Lois cried out. "Won't I recognize myself?" She shook her head, confused by her own words.

Mikhail laughed, his green eyes flashing maniacally. "You must think me to be an amateur. I altered the way people see you. To everyone else you look like two kids in high school." With another snap of his fingers he produced a small mirror. "Here, look for yourself."

Lois took the mirror from Mikhail and stared at her reflection. Looking back at her was a young red haired girl wearing glasses. "What the hell?" She muttered under her breath. Behind her stood a blonde haired Clark, neither looking remotely as they'd appeared before.

"Can I help you?"

Lois gasped as she stared at the alternate version of herself. This version looked tired and worn, as though the weight of the world were on her shoulders.

"Are you okay Lois?" Clark asked. He must have also noticed the haggard appearance of the doppelganger before them.

"Do I know you?" She asked startled by the familiar tone Clark had taken.

"We're from Metropolis High," Lois covered shooting Clark a look. "We were wondering if we could ask you some questions about… the Blur."

Her eyes widened at the mentioning of the Blur. She looked over her shoulder and discreetly moved toward the first step, closing the door gently behind her.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, or why you think I'm just going to give up information about the Blur," she said quickly, in a low voice. "But I can't be having this conversation with you… You'll put him in danger."

"Is that why you're marrying Sacks?" Clark asked.

The alternate Lois was quick to shake her head. "No, no. I love… Ray. I'm marrying him for love," she said, her words hollow. Her voice betrayed the lie she'd spoken.

Clark shook his head. "That's not true. I can see it in your eyes."

Lois watched the exchange before her. Her alternate version was startled by the familiarity that Clark questioned her with. It was obvious she was beginning to soften because of his approach which had challenged her declaration.

"Who are you?" She asked again, staring at Clark.

"You need to trust us. We want to help you," Lois assured her lookalike. "We can't explain, even if we wanted to… just trust that we are here to help you."

She nodded slowly, unsure if she should believe the two high schoolers before her. Her gut urged her forward, telling her to reveal the truth to these strangers. There was something in the young boy's eyes; he reminded her so much of Clark…

"It was my fault," she said distantly. "I couldn't stop the legislation, but Cl—the Blur… he just wanted to help people. He couldn't tune the cries or the voices out. He had to act. You can understand, can't you?"

Lois nodded and looked toward Clark who was captivated by what was being shared with them.

"According to the law if you're caught using your powers, regardless of whether you're meteor infected or a meta-human they create a weakness for you. For the Blur it was a prison of kryptonite." Lois noticed that her twin's eyes were welling with tears; this revelation and the knowledge of what had happened to the Blur were tearing her apart. "It's different for the others. Some have had their power torn from their physical body. There was a rumour that one had had his power removed right from his brain, turning him into a certifiable vegetable." Mikhail brought his finger to his temple and winced, shaking his head of the thought.

"Why are you marrying Sacks?" Lois asked. It was apparent to both of them that the relationship between the Blur and this Lois was stronger than either had initially realized.

"To save my partner's life," she replied simply, her face crestfallen.

Confused, Lois pressed, "your partner?"

"Me," Clark interjected, replying for her.

"Sorry?" Lois stared at the group before her and furrowed her brows. "Who did you say you were again?"

Before either could formulate a response, Mikhail had snapped his fingers and again they were transported. This time the reporters found themselves back to the familiar doors of the Daily Planet.

"Why'd you go and do that?" Clark demanded. He'd been just as curious as Lois to understand more about the relationship between this world's Lois and himself.

"If one knows too much about the possibilities of his own future…" he shrugged empathetically. "It can ruin some surprises."

"Then why bother taking us here at all?" Lois asked, frustrated. "What's the point to all this?"

"You'll find your answer in there," he replied pointing toward the revolving doors of the Daily Planet. "You won't have to go far. The receptionist will give you what you need."

"And then what?" Lois demanded, her hands tightening at her waist. "You'll bring us somewhere else where we'll just get more cryptic riddles and no answers to any of our questions?"

Mikhail shook his head, stubborn. "Go inside. You'll find your answers."

Furious and ready to launch a verbal assault on the Baltic stranger, Clark impeded her attack by grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the doors.

"You won't get anywhere fighting him, Lois," he cautioned. "Trust me. We might as well just play his game."

Lois huffed and relented, following him into the main foyer of the Daily Planet.

"Can I help you?" Asked the receptionist as she lifted the microphone of the headset away from her mouth.

Lois looked toward Clark, unsure of how to proceed. It was obvious Mikhail's spell which disguised them was still in effect.

"Um," began Clark, hesitantly. "Can you tell us where we can find Clark Kent?"

"Mr. Kent left the Planet a few months back," she replied. "According to his girlfriend at the time he went on a private assignment in Turkmenistan. No one's heard from him since."

Puzzled, Clark leaned against the desk and pressed for further information. "Is it possible we can speak to his girlfriend then? Perhaps there's a number we can reach her at?"

"Lois Lane no longer works for the Planet."

"Lois Lane?" Squeaked Lois. "Lois Lane and Clark Kent… dated?"

"Yeah," nodded the receptionist. "They were quite the team. I'm not really sure what happened, but it had something to do with the Disabled Powers Legislation." She shrugged her shoulders. "All I know is that one minute they practically can't keep their hands off of each other and the next Mr. Kent's gone and Ms. Lane's engaged to the District Attorney."

"What does that have to do with the passing of the legislation?" Asked Clark confused.

"Didn't you follow Ms. Lane's work?" He shook his head. In this alternate world he hadn't. "Well, you missed a good series of articles, let me tell you. Ms. Lane was all set to speak out at a citizen's assembly on the legislation. Everyone figured that once she spoke out against the bill, there'd be no way they could pass it. She had this way with words, you know?" Clark smiled and looked toward Lois whose face had coloured at the compliment. "Then the next thing you know Mr. Kent's gone and Ms. Lane quit, taking up with Sacks."

"Do you know why she didn't do the speech?"

The receptionist frowned and looked over her shoulder. Confident that there was no one within earshot, she leaned forward. "It's all speculation 'round here. Someone told me once that she'd almost gotten killed because she was threatening to speak out at the assembly. Rumour has it that the Blur convinced her not to do the speech… to save her life, I guess." The receptionist looked down toward her desk, a light flashed from the panel before her. "You'll have to excuse me, I need to get this."

Clark turned to Lois, clarity on his side. Lois, however, looked perplexed with confusion marring her own understanding.

"I don't get it," she said looking to Clark for answers. "Why would I agree to not do the speech? It doesn't sound like something I would do… either in our world or this one. Plus what do _you_ have to with all of this?"

Before Clark could reply, Mikhail appeared between them. "We settled then?"

"Hardly," huffed Lois.

Mikhail raised his eyebrows. "You have to do the speech. It's clear, no? Otherwise there will be no powers for me and no powers for the Blur; possible death for both of us."

"But it doesn't make any sense. The Blur…Lois… Clark… _you_….! And why did this world's Clark go to Turkmenistan?" Lois begged, hoping that they could provide her with answers.

Clark looked at Lois, wanting desperately for her to understand the truth. "She loves him."

"Who? The Blur or Clark?"

Mikhail's green eyes twinkled as he laughed at her question. "Both."

With his answer came a great explosion of light which threw both Lois and Clark from their feet. The blinding blue and white light surrounded them, swirling in a frenzy around their bodies. Feeling paralyzed, Clark watched as Lois was pulled further and further away. He willed himself to break through the invisible restraints to no avail.

As quickly as the sensations had come, they were gone. A sharp wind deposited them in the classroom they'd been in before.

"Mr. Kent? Ms. Lane?" A worried voice called out. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

Clark opened his eyes and looked up. An unfamiliar face, stared down at him.

"Relax Mr. Kent. I'm the school nurse," the woman patted his shoulder. "You seemed to have passed out."

"I'm fine, really." Clark pushed himself to a sitting position. Next to him sat Lois, her head propped up by in her hands. "Are you okay?"

"I just had the craziest head rush," she said to him. "One minute I'm looking at the sculpture, the next I'm practically falling on to the floor."

"But you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"You two just blanked out," explained Nancy. "One minute you were looking at the sculpture and the next you were both staring into space."

"How'd I get on the floor?"

Nancy shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "When you wouldn't respond, I went and got the nurse. I came back and found you keeled over. It was quite the herculean effort to turn you on to your side."

"You both came to a few seconds ago," added the nurse. "Do you feel anything? Any odd sensations? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing at all." Lois nodded her head in agreement.

"Do you remember anything?"

"Nothing at all." Clark turned his head sharply toward Lois, silently questioning the truth in her response. Was it possible she didn't remember their visit to the alternate universe?

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Just the coffee I had on my way here."

Clark shrugged. The last time he'd had a full meal was probably at lunch yesterday. "Same."

"Well then that explains it. You too are probably just in need of some sugar. Here, have these." The nurse handed them each a granola bar. "I keep them handy in case one of the kids forgets their lunch."

Nancy picked up the disk shaped sculpture and held it carefully in her hands. "What should I do with these?" She asked, her green eyes flashing with excitement. "Maybe there's more to these things…"

"What those?" Asked the nurse. "Are your students into that movie as well?"

"Movie?"

"Yeah, _UFOs from Mars_. It's some movie that my kids saw the other day. They've been begging for me to buy them the toys ever since. The kids in your class probably saw the film too."

"It's from a movie?" Lois groaned.

Clark laughed. "The kids made these because of something they saw in a movie?"

Nancy shrugged. "I don't know. They've been talking nonstop about some film. I didn't realize that these were from it."

"Ugh. Kids!" Lois threw up her hands. "I should've known! C'mon Smallville. There's no story here. It's all been a case of 'overactive imaginatitis.'"

Clark chuckled and followed Lois from the classroom; thanking Nancy and the nurse on his way out. "Imaginatitis?"

"What? I made it up. It should be a real disease. There was never any story here. Mrs. Kristofferson probably belongs in a looney bin."

Clark grabbed at Lois' elbow and stopped her. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "you don't remember anything?"

"Nothing," Lois replied, her eyes wide and honest. "Why? Do you know something?"

"No—nothing," he lied.

"I've got to say though there was something about that teacher's eyes that just seemed so… familiar. I can't figure it out." She shrugged her shoulders and turned on her heels marching through the front doors of the school. "C'mon. Burgers are on me. I know a place nearby."

Deep down Clark knew he should be concerned. Perhaps it had all been a dream concocted out of a deep hunger; in all likelihood, it was a false reality created by Mikhail Mxyzptlk as a warning of a future that could happen. It was a future where Lois could be face to face with danger and Clark as the Blur would have to let her walk headlong in to it.

Squaring his shoulders, Clark walked out into the sunlight. Squinting, he sought out Lois.

"Over here, Smallville!" She called out. From across the street, she waved to him in front of Big Ben's Burger Barn.

While the future was uncertain and the results of the legislation even more so; Clark had long ago vowed to protect Lois, both as the bumbling newsboy from Smallville and as the determined hero of Metropolis. As he crossed the streets to join Lois, he silently prayed that Mikhail's foreshadowed visions were just that.

**_.:TBC:._**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This one's dedicated to the wonderful, wonderful posters who've offered up their feedback. I was terribly afraid for a moment there after chapter 2 that my story was pure crap, so it was nice to have the encouragement. Please, please review! I love know that there are people out there who at the very least are reading & liking the story.

This chapter is heavily inspired by an episode of a 90s Brit-show called "Press Gang". I couldn't resist the comparison, especially in light of Lois' "rule". I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

**.::Rule 3: Always make a good first impression (and don't screw up with the boss)::.**

**BACHELOR AUCTION RAISES THOUSANDS FOR CHILDREN'S CHARITY  
**By Cat Grant

Last night at the Queen Auditorium, hundreds gathered for what turned out to be an extremely successful night. Queen Industries Children's Charity managed to raise over $1 million dollars through the auctioning of Metropolis' most eligible bachelors. The king of Queen Industries himself, Oliver Queen secured the highest bid at $450,000 by an anonymous bidder. Sources are quick to suggest the newly affluent Tess Mercer, head of LexCorp, was the mysterious bidder looking to snatch up the hunky entrepreneur before anyone else could sink their claws into him.

Noticeably absent from the event was Gotham's most eligible bachelor, Bruce Wayne. His reps say that while Mr. Wayne is always a generous supporter of Children's Charities, his presence was required at a Wayne Enterprise event. Word on the street is that Mr. Wayne may not be a bachelor for very long as he was spotted arm in arm with the Daily Planet's own cut-throat reporter, Lois Lane at the Metropolis Congress Centre. That's one bone "Mad Dog" Lois Lane can't possibility resist.

**...:::...**

"Jeremy?" Lois asked, her voice oozing sweetness as she handed over her offering of a coffee and bagged pastry.

"Lois?" He replied suspiciously. He eyed her oddly wondering what the occasion was that warranted the niceties. Usually she barely noticed him, typically muttering half words as she'd toss edited copy his way. "It's Jason, not Jeremy," he reminded for the hundredth time that month as he accepted the coffee and pastry.

"Oh. Right… Anyway, I was wondering—"

"No, I'm not going with you to the Wayne Foundation party."

"Ugh!" Lois cried out, stomping her foot in frustration, grabbing back the coffee and pastry from Jason's hands. "What is wrong with you people?" She called out to the basement bullpen, addressing no one in particular. "Do I have horns on my head? Why is it so damn hard to get a date to a stupid party 'round here?" For the past week she'd asked just about every male in Features to be her date. _Almost_ every one. And each had turned her down.

"Lois, just ask Clark," Jason suggested with a chuckle. It was well known throughout the Features department that the farm kid from Smallville had a thing for Lois Lane. Everyone from writers to copy editors to even the mail sorters watched with knowing smirks as Clark fumbled around Lois, constantly tugging at his tie and tripping over his words.

The newsroom was divided on Lois' feelings for Clark. While she barked out orders equally to all, lately she seemed to gnaw through pen caps more frequently. And then there was the way she would unknowingly fiddle with her hair any time Clark came within five feet of her.

The basement bullpen had gone through three rounds of bets trying to figure out when one of them would finally pull the trigger and ask the other on a date. What Lois hadn't realized was that the entire floor had been conspiring against her at the first rumblings of the event.

Lois pounded her fist on a nearby desk. "I am _not_ going to ask Clark Kent! That's just ludicrous! He doesn't even like-."

A throat cleared behind her. "Doesn't what, Lois?"

Lois winced at the sound of Clark's voice. What she'd wanted to say was that he didn't even _like_ her. After all he was always tripping over himself to get away from her. Slowly she turned to face him. "Uh… nothing," she lied. It's not that it hadn't occurred to Lois to invite Clark; she'd known him long enough that she was fairly certain that he'd go with her if she'd asked. But lately, something had been stirring inside of her and it made her uneasy. Recently she'd begun to notice that Clark was filling out his dress shirts a little nicer and there'd been more times than she'd care to admit that she found herself starring at his lips wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

"Lois wants you to go with her to the Wayne Foundation party," Jason interjected on Lois' behalf. "Perry wants a representative from each department and she offered—"

"—was told!"

"To go," he finished. "It's a plus one, black tie event in Metropolis tonight."

"Sure," agreed Clark, shrugging his shoulders. "Sounds like fun. What time's it at?"

Lois narrowed her eyes, glaring at Clark. "I thought you hated those kinds of events?"

Jason picked up the invitation from Lois' desk. "It's at 8pm," he said slapping the envelope against Clark's chest. "Good luck dude."

**...:::...**

Lois' heart jumped into her throat when she heard the knock sound at her door. She pushed her fingers through her hair one last time and took a lingered glance at her face in the mirror. Everything was as good as it was going to get, she figured.

With a deep sigh she called out, "Coming!" Heading to the door, she patted down the satin blue dress which dipped low at her chest and clung perfectly to her curves.

"You were supposed to be here for 7:30, you're earl—" As she swung the door open, her words caught in her throat. Before her stood Clark impressively clad in a black tuxedo, his hair messily curled at his forehead, a light smile on his lips. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

"For you," Clark said revealing a bouquet of daisies that he held hidden behind his back. "I remembered they're your favourite."

"Oh!" Lois said surprised. She took the flowers and held them to her nose. "I didn't realize I'd told you I liked daisies. Thank you!" She shook her head, confused. She could've sworn she'd only told the Blur about her love for the white and yellow flower.

"You look beautiful Lois," Clark said nervously as he watched her fill a vase with water.

"Th-Thanks. You too," she replied, sloshing water on to the counter. "I mean, you look good too."

"Thanks," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "So what's this night about anyway?" He asked as Lois grabbed her purse and keys.

"Bruce Wayne, that rich entrepreneur from Gotham City, just bought out the Daily Planet." She explained, closing the door behind her and locking it. "He's hosting this ball as a way to meet and greet the Planet's best and brightest."

"And of course you were invited," Clark added sincerely.

Lois chuckled. "I guess. It's nice to be asked. But someone from each department was required to attend, so I doubt that he'll even realize I'm there."

"Then it'll be his biggest mistake." Clark said as he opened the door to his truck and helped her up on to the step.

"Smallville?"

"Yeah?" He replied; his hand perched, ready to close the passenger door.

With a smirk, Lois asked: "Do you always know all the right things to say?"

"Only sometimes," He said with a smile.

**...:::...**

"I can't do this," Lois declared pacing the hall outside of the convention room at the Metropolis Congress Centre.

"Can't do what?" Clark asked confused.

"Hic!"

"What was that?"

"Shut up!" She paused and took a deep breath, willing the catch in her throat to disappear. "It's a nervous tick alright! Hic! It comes on sometimes when I'm nervous."

"Lois, I've known you over five years and I haven't heard you do that… ever!"

"Hic! I haven't had to make a first impression like this before. This is Bruce Wayne! He owns the paper and most of Gotham City…" Lois's eyebrows furrowed. "What if he's heard about all the health claims I've made and he's just looking for an opportunity to fire me? Or what if he's looking to demote me because I still haven't gotten the one-on-one exposé interview with the Blur? Can someone go lower than the sub-basement? You can't predict what these wealthy types are thinking, especially someone like Bruce Wayne."

"Lois—!" Clark called out, attempting to no avail to interrupt her babbling.

"Seriously Clark! – Hic—Why was I invited to this event anyway? There are better reporters in Features. I've only just given them trouble… oh god!"

"Lois! Look at me!" Clark reached out and held her arms steady, pulling her to attention. "You are a fantastic reporter. I don't know what's making you think otherwise, but you were invited here because you've gotten the Planet some of their largest selling headlines. You are the damn best reporter at that place and I can guarantee you that you are going to make an amazing first impression."

"Are you sure?" She asked defeated.

"I'm more sure about this than anything, Lois. Trust me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, disbelief written across her face. Suddenly, without thinking she blurted, "I need to go home!"

"What?"

Lois turned and headed toward the main doors. "I can't do this. Hic!" With deliberate force, she pushed open the glass doors and stormed out on to the street; Clark followed close behind.

"You want to go home?" He called out tentatively as she marched eastbound along 44th Street.

"Hic! Yes. Now where'd you park the damn car?" She shouted back, her anger unfairly directed toward Clark.

"Uh, it's that way…" He pointed in the opposite direction to which Lois was walking.

"Fine," she huffed and turned on her heel. "Are you coming? Hic!" She asked, her eyes flashing as she passed him by.

"Yah," he replied reluctantly, following her.

Occasionally he would hear a soft "hic" from Lois as she stormed toward the parking garage, her heels echoing along the sidewalk.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Clark called out in a last ditch effort.

"What?" She turned and glared at him. "What do you mean?"

"You're sure you want to throw away the perfect opportunity to make connections within Wayne Enterprise and finally show Perry that you can tango with the best of them? Maybe even get that ever-elusive interview with Bruce Wayne?"

"What are you saying Clark? Spit it out!" She dared him, furious.

"Fine!" He challenged, stepping closer toward her. "I think this hiccupping thing is in your head. You've psyched yourself out because for some strange reason you don't believe in yourself."

"I believe in myself!" Lois declared, indignant.

"Most of the time you do," he countered. "But for some reason this event—meeting all these people who could literally change your life—is making your think twice. I think that if you leave you're going to make the biggest mistake of your life and I think you'll regret it."

"You do, do you?"

"Yeah, I do."

Lois' eyes softened at his reply. How was it that he always seemed to know her so well? She frowned and found her eyes darting toward her purse where her fingers began to nervously twirl at a decorative fringe. "What am I going to say to them, Clark?"

"What you usually say to start conversations. Sports, beer, monster trucks—it won't matter. They'll fall in love with you Lois, I promise." He ran his hand along her arm encouragingly.

"I don't know. What if they don't like sports or beer or god forbid, monster trucks?" She looked up at Clark, her eyes pleading.

"Lois, you're kidding right?" He asked, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "You don't even realize that every time you walk in to a room every head turns toward you. You're going to dazzle them, just like you always do. The Lois I know wouldn't be scared off by something like a hiccup. She would march in there and own that hiccup."

Lois bit her bottom lip and considered his words. "Okay Smallville." She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She linked her arm into Clark's. "You'd better be –hic– right about this."

He chuckled at her unfailing ability to shrug her fears away so easily. "I am, Lois."

"Hic! Help me blow them away, then. Cause if this ship goes down, I'm taking you with me," she said with a wink.

Returning to the convention hall, a staff member opened the door for them. Lois looked up at Clark with an incredulous smile. "Oh and Smallville? Don't get wise and think you're getting a good night kiss because you helped me out for five minutes. It's not like this is a date or anything."

Clark laughed nervously and shook his head. "I wouldn't dream of such a thing," he lied. "Definitely not a date."

**...:::...**

Clark sipped at his champagne and watched from the corner of the room as Lois laughed freely with Bruce Wayne. Her hand flirtatiously pushed her long hair from her face as Bruce's arm reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. Her hiccups had disappeared as soon as the Gotham playboy had come over to introduce himself, striking up a conversation about the lack of quality beer offered by the bar. As he continued to watch them talk, the occasional bout of laughter reaching his ears, Clark could easily feel the jealousy creeping into his veins and willed away his desire to race across the room and punch Bruce in the face. Before he could stop himself, he felt the narrow bowl of his glass shatter in his hand sending champagne spilling across his suit jacket. Lois glared warningly from across the room as Clark shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. He reached over and took some napkins from the bar and began to lightly pat away the excess moisture.

"Steady there, boy," came a voice from behind him. Clark turned to find Perry White before him, squeezing a lemon into a short glass. Clark raised his eyebrow at the glass. "Soda water," Perry said with a knowing nod. "On the mend, Clark. I promised your mother."

Clark nodded. "That's good to hear. How've you been doing since…?" He let his words drop, unsure of how to continue.

"Since your mother and I broke it off?" Perry suggested, taking a sip from his glass. "Not going to lie to you Clark, it's been hard. But I'm getting by. Being back in Metropolis with the Planet helps."

"The Planet's been doing really well since you became editor," Clark offered, his eyes flicking back to Lois and Bruce.

"She's quite a star that one," Perry said with a knowing smirk. "Angling to get to the 10th floor at every opportunity."

"She deserves it."

"Oh, I don't disagree. I know a City News contract for her is going to come at a huge price. Unfortunately in today's economy I can't justify bringing her up to the 10th without her name on the byline for a story of epic proportions."

"Epic proportions?" Clark said with a laugh.

"That's what the kid in accounting keeps telling me. I've been trying to bring you upstairs too, you know. You don't exactly make it easy on a fella, you know?"

Clark cocked his head and looked at Perry quizzically. "What do you mean?"

Perry leaned in and whispered, "Boy, you've got to write more pieces. Get in to the action. Get your hands dirty. Hang out with Lane more often. Follow her lead."

Clark nodded, understanding. He just wasn't completely sure if he wanted to be on the 10th floor where it might not be as easy to escape from one's desk at the sound of a cry for help.

"Listen, I'm angling to get Lombard back to the 8th floor. He's a complete skirt chaser. It's not the highest paying position, but once Lane gets upstairs it'll give you two an opportunity to partner up on some real news," he said with a wink. "Start getting in to the thick of it and I'll gladly send Lombard packing, hear me?"

"You're not worried that people might think its favouritism or something?"

"Lemme worry about that Clark. I told your mother I'd look out for you. File a few more stories and I'll see what I can do. As for Lane? She'll get to the 10th easily, but she'll want to earn it."

Clark smiled, agreeing. Lois wouldn't want to be handed an opportunity, she'd definitely want to show that she was deserving of it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lois returning to him with Bruce at her side.

"Bruce, I'd like to introduce you to Clark Kent," Lois said motioning towards Clark. He held out his hand, eyeing Clark suspiciously. "And of course, you must know Perry White," she added nodding toward Perry.

"Clark? Good to meet you." Bruce shook Clark's hand, his grip tightening to match Clark's. "Perry? Nice to see you again."

"Bruce," replied Perry raising his glass and nodding. "Listen, there's a few advertisers I need to put some face time in with, I'll leave you all to it. It was great catching up, Clark." Perry patted Clark on the arm as he turned. "Good luck," he added with a wink.

"So Clark, Lois tells me you two have worked on a few articles together. What's it like working with such a spitfire?"

Lois laughed and lightly punched at Bruce's arm. "A spitfire? Oh, I don't know about that!"

"Nonsense Lois," Bruce said. "I've read some of your articles. The one about the Justice Society in particular was riveting. Do you really think that there's still a place for these superheroes in today's society? You don't think they're just vigilantes out for revenge?"

Clark watched the exchange unfold before him, silenced by their constant stream of dialogue. Bruce appeared so poised and confident with his designer suit neatly pressed and assistants who were at his beck and call. It was clear where ever he went, every pair of eyes turned in his direction. Clark was nonplussed by the attention Bruce commanded; it all seemed so unwarranted in his opinion.

"What do you think Clark?" Asked Bruce. "Is there a place for superheroes in this world?"

Carefully and pointedly, Clark narrowed his eyes and replied, "There's always a place for heroes. Super or otherwise. As long as the hero works toward maintaining honesty, truth and justice, there will always be a need."

Bruce raised his eyebrows and looked toward Lois. "By that admission, I'd say Clark here is also a fan of your beloved Blur."

"Tell me Clark," Bruce continued, his eyes narrowing. "What're your thoughts on the new legislation that's trying to be passed in government: the Disabled Powers bill? Are you for or against it?"

"Against," he said simply, offering no further reasoning.

Lois smiled. "I hear Gotham's got its own hero as well. The Batman?"

"Well Gotham's Batman doesn't need superhuman abilities or meteor-powers as you would call it, to put criminals behind bars. He does it using talent, mechanism and—"

"And a whole lot of money?" Clark interrupted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Bruce. "I hear that Wayne Enterprise has been funneling money toward high-tech weapons and machinery. Any truth to that?"

"Sir?" Interrupted an elderly man, his British lilt obvious in his speech. "Commissioner Gordon is on the phone for you. He'd like to discuss your involvement with this year's Gotham Charity Ball."

Bruce nodded and gave Clark a suspicious glare. "Thank you, Alfred. You'll have to excuse me Lois, Clark; I have to take this." He took Lois' hand and lifted it to his lips. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I'll look forward to reading more of your work in the future. You know how to reach me?" Lois nodded, speechless. Bruce turned and with the eyes of the room following him, he was led by Alfred in to the hallway, disappearing around a corner.

"Wow," muttered Lois under her breath.

"Wow?" Clark asked incredulous, turning his thumb toward the door. "That guy?"

"Oh, Smallville. I hope you're not jealous," she said with a laugh. Clark's face reddened as he looked away.

Laughing, Lois pulled at his arm and led him toward the dance floor. "C'mon, dance with me."

Clark shook his head, "I don't dance."

"You do now," Lois said with a grin, lacing her palm into his and raising her left hand to his shoulder. "Just don't step on my feet."

Smiling in spite of himself, he shook his head; Lois was incorrigible. Clark relaxed his hand at her waist.

Moving slowly to the beat of the music, Clark felt his senses become intoxicated by the scent of her light perfume. He felt his pulse quicken and feared that Lois might hear the thumping of his heart. Little did he realize that Lois shared a similar worry, attempting to mask her own quickening heart rate by repeatedly tucking her hair behind her ear.

As the music swelled and then softened to its finale, Clark breathed a light sigh of relief. Being this close to Lois, having her body tucked closely against his own, reminded him of the thousands of reasons he was grateful to Jason for forcing Lois to take him to the party.

"I guess I owe Jason thanks," Lois said, breaking their silence as a second song filled the hall.

Startled, Clark wondered briefly if Lois had been sharing his thoughts. "Why's that?" He asked carefully.

Lois looked up at him, her eyes softening. "I'm glad you went on this date with me Clark."

"I thought it wasn't a date?" He teased.

"It certainly seems like a date, doesn't it?" She said with a laugh. Poking her finger into his chest, she warned, "Even though you may have been right about me earlier and this might be a date, you're still not getting a good night kiss."

"I was right, huh?"

"Yeah. You were right. I may look and seem confident, but sometimes I don't feel like it. I needed you to remind me that I could do it. That I had it in me."

Lost for words, Clark just nodded and pulled her toward him for the next dance.

"Huh. You're a not bad dancer, Smallville. Maybe you'll get that goodnight kiss after all." Lois had meant for the words to come from her mouth with a hint of laughter and sarcasm, but instead her words betrayed her. All night she'd chastened herself, trying to create excuses for the quickening beat of her heart. Even Bruce had commented on the numerous glances she'd snuck in Clark's direction. With his arm pulling her closer toward him; with the scent of his cologne filling her senses and with each look he gave her, he had unknowingly stirred awake something inside her.

"Lois?" Clark said finally.

"Yes?"

"What about Bruce?" He questioned, unsure that he wanted to know her answer.

"What about Bruce?" She repeated.

Clark shook his head. "I thought… I mean, he was looking…"

"It's just a front page story, Clark," she said simply, her throat dry. "I think… I think I might—That _we_ might…" She looked up at him. Lois suddenly wished that Clark, by some miracle, might share the feelings that were springing up inside of her. There was something in his face, in the way he stared down at her in that moment that led her to believe, led her to hope…

Clark didn't question her words. Instead he moved his body closer toward her, drawn by something instinctual. Perhaps it was the fullness of her lips, the softness of her eyes, and the curve of her cheeks that drew him nearer… or maybe it was just a deep seated feeling he had. His eyes closed, heavy with desire. Hers followed. She tilted her head, her heart racing and her secret yearning taking control.

Just as their lips were millimeters apart, a sharp buzzing sounded causing Lois' eyes to fly open and Clark to step back.

Startled, she pulled the zipper of her purse that had hung at her side. "My phone," she mumbled absently turning it over in her hand to read the screen. "Looks like we missed a story."

Blinking away his haze, he cocked his head. "What?"

"Seems that there's been a break out at Blackgate prison," she said reading off her screen, the moment seemingly long forgotten.

Clark pulled at his tie. "I'll just go and get—"

Lois reached out and grabbed Clark's jacket sleeve, stopping him. "You're not going anywhere. You're my drive, remember?"

Clark looked around him, trying to quickly figure out a way to duck out from the party without drawing her attention.

Lois held up her phone. "Batman stopped it."

"What?" Clark asked, stunned. Batman was in Metropolis?

"C'mon! Let's go check it out. Maybe they'll let us talk to some witnesses." She pulled at his elbow and guided him toward the coat check, digging into her purse for her ticket.

Clark shook his head in confusion as he helped Lois into her shrug. "I don't get it," he said aloud.

"Get what?"

"Why is Batman in Metropolis?"

Lois looked up at him, excited. "Who cares? If Batman is in Metropolis that to me spells a Daily Planet front page headline."

**...:::...**

The night at the Wayne Foundation event hadn't exactly gone the way that Clark had hoped. He'd spent most of it watching Bruce Wayne vie for Lois' attention; then he missed an opportunity to share a kiss with her and had finished the night watching Lois annoy the desk officer at the Metropolis Police Department. Thankfully, their ride back to Smallville had improved his mood; Lois had dared him into a game of ABC Countries and she was decidedly winning.

"R?" He asked.

"Rhodesia."

"Rhodesia? That country hasn't existed since 1980! No cheating. Current countries only."

"Fine. Romania. Your turn: S."

"Easy. Switzerland. T."

"Turkmenistan," Lois said with a flourish, confident in her answer.

Clark's eyes widened at her familiar choice. "Well done!"

Lois gave a slight bow and laughed. "I'm such a champ at this game!"

"Yes, yes you are." Clark shook his head in amusement as he parked the truck in front of the Talon. "I'll walk you to your door," he offered.

"Oh Smallville, giving up already are we?" She challenged with a nervous titter to her voice as she fumbled for her keys to unlock the door to the coffee house.

Intending to ease the butterflies in her stomach, she laughed lightly to herself. "Do you remember the last time we played 20 Questions? It was on the way to the lake last summer, wasn't it?" She held the door open for him to follow her inside.

Smiling, he replied, "Yeah. I think I won that time."

"Only because I let you win. It was like you _wanted_ to lose. I had to give you a break at some point."

"How generous!" Clark retorted with a grin spread across his face.

"Listen Clark, I wanted to thank you again for tonight," she blurted out, silently willing away the butterflies in her stomach.

"Again?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Lois, really. I was happy to come along. And for the record, my theory about you was right."

Lois cocked her head, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Theory? What theory?"

"That you would dazzle everyone."

"Oh Clark!" She said, punching her fist into his arm. "I don't know about that." Turning, she continued up the stairs. "You always know the right thing to say don't you?"

"Only—"

"— sometimes," she finished with a nervous smile as she reached the door to her apartment.

"I mean it though, Lois. You impressed Bruce enough that he's probably going to give you an exclusive and Perry's been waiting for you to catch the right story so he can bring you up to the 10th floor. You're going places Lois Lane."

Lois smiled, touched at his kind words. "I had a great time tonight, Clark."

"You're welcome, Lois."

Nervously, Lois motioned toward her apartment door. "I should, you know, go inside and try to cobble together some semblance of an article about that prison breakout."

"Yeah. You probably should," he agreed with a slight, slow nod.

Before his common sense could take over, before he could convince himself otherwise, Clark reached his hand toward Lois' cheek and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered momentarily along her jaw line. Slowly, he leaned toward Lois, his heart nervously skipping in his chest. Her head tilted in response, seemingly ready to welcome his lips to her own.

He felt her hand push against his chest, stopping him. "I think you might be confused about this kiss, Clark," she said sternly, a small smirk pulling at her lips.

Clark's face reddened. How foolish he'd been! "Oh. Right." He dropped his hand from her face and attempted to mask his disappointment. "No confusion. It's good night kiss. A thank you, right? I totally understand."

With her teeth biting at her lower lip, Lois' eyes sparkled as she shook her head. "I knew you were confused."

In one fluid movement, Lois pulled at the lapels of Clark's suit jacket, bringing him toward her. Her lips pressed against his, eliciting a surprised gasp. Without missing a beat, his hands pulled at her waist, daring her body closer. Their tongues danced hungrily, the long censored emotions freed in each of them. Her hands inched toward his neck, her fingers tangling within his hair; his slid up the length of her back pulling her tight. At some point a desperate hand reached out and turned the door knob causing them to stumble dizzily into the apartment and onto the nearby sofa.

The next day's edition of the Daily Planet was published without an article by Lois Lane or Clark Kent on the break out at Blackgate prison. Neither Lois, nor Clark had a care as to what their new boss would think. Instead, in the darkly lit room above the Talon, another kind of first impression was being made. Sometimes rules were worth being broken.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Again, many thanks to the wonderful posters who continue to support me in this story. This chapter is a behemoth! I think it's the longest single chapter I've _ever_ written. Lots to get across!

Now, I'm not American and American civics sometimes sends my brain into a tailspin, so I did my best. Hopefully there aren't any glaring errors or misrepresentations when it comes to the legislative process in this chapter.

As some have noticed and already have commented on, this isn't a seamless story. I've modeled the fic in such a way that we are seeing snapshots of Clois as Lois moves toward discovering Superman. It's my own version of pre-Superman, I guess. As such, I am setting up some villains and some relationships that will be seen in the Superman era.

Anyway, please enjoy and continue to leave feedback. I read them all and love them so very, very much!

* * *

******.::**Rule 4: Do whatever it takes to get the story**::.**

**PLANET'S LOIS LANE ROCKS CITIZEN'S ASSEMBLY WITH SPEECH ON PROPOSED LEGISLATION  
**By Ron Troupe

The Kansas state government has been debating an initiative that will ban all meteor powers throughout the state. All persons will be required to carry government issued identification that could be requested by an authorized official at any time. Under the proposed legislation all citizens would be required to attend mandatory testing for non-human powers. Any person who is discovered to be meta-human, meteor-infected or otherwise must register in a national database. If they are caught using their powers, the government will authorize officials to arrest and detain, wherein the individual will have their power forcibly removed from them. This has created much debate in Congress as many see it as an infringement of civil liberties.

Under District Attorney Ray Sacks, a Citizen's Assembly was called to debate the issue. Upon conclusion they would be asked to vote on the legislation. If the Citizen's Assembly were to agree to the terms, it would be only be a matter of time before the state government were to pass it. As it is an election year, many in Congress are seeking to please the population and are expected to vote according to the results of the decision made by the Citizen's Assembly.

The Daily Planet's Lois Lane had been offered an opportunity to speak but was unexpectedly detained. Expected to forgo the meeting due to her incarceration at the Metropolis Police Department, Lane was released after D.A. Sacks was reminded that he was infringing on her constitutional rights by Gotham A.D.A Rachel Dawes.

Despite the hitch, Lane appeared at the Assembly and did not hold back in her speech. Her agenda was clear: the legislation would be unacceptable.

"To punish those who try to make this city stand up for what is right, what is good and what is just, is ridiculous. We need to return to the values that this city was built on," declared Lane to the packed room. "To blame people like the Blur—people who work tirelessly to save your husbands, wives, children, friends —is unfair."

Lane went on to recount the heroism that she's experienced in her interactions with the meteor-infected and most especially with the Blur. She adamantly expressed the need to encourage heroic behaviour and eliminate the criminal element within Metropolis. The legislation, she contends, will only succeed in encouraging illegal behaviour and will make the city unsafe for all.

As for the very public battle between Lane and Sacks over the potential passing of the bill, Lane referred to the oft-discredited District Attorney as a McCarthy era witch-hunter. This biting, but truthful, comparison was followed by Lane accusing Sacks of supporting the anti-Blur smear campaign that has run throughout recent issues of the Metropolis Inquisitor.

She finished her speech with an emotional plea, begging the Assembly to consider the Blur's perspective. "If you really knew him, really understood what the Blur stands for, you would see the hope that he has for us. For all of us," she said with confidence. "If he didn't have that hope in his heart he wouldn't seek out justice, wouldn't want for love to be shared among us, wouldn't see the opportunities for greatness in us all. The Blur is hope. The Blur is justice. The Blur is Metropolis."

Furthering her agenda, Lane questioned: "How can we sit back and let the government that represents us take what inspires us away? We need to stand up for what is right. Stand up against this ridiculous legislation. A legislation that wants to take away the very thing that has given us something to believe in. We can not, should not and must not allow Congress to pass this law. I ask you stand up with me and show the Blur- show our heroes- that we want to protect them just as they protect us."

The results of the Citizen's Assembly votes are expected to be released tomorrow. Pundits, however, confidently speculate that Lane's goal was achieved. It is expected that the proposed Disabled Powers Legislation will be dismissed by both the Citizen's Assembly and later by Congress.

**...:::...**

Randall had caught her three times; the intern in the corner twice and Jason once. Six times she'd been caught staring into space, conveniently in the direction of Clark's desk. Ever since their date at the Wayne Foundation Party last week, Lois had been a complete mess. Thankfully, no one had yet made the connection between her current state of distraction and her oft missing partner.

Even the most menial tasks had become difficult as she could barely focus. Yesterday Randall had given her page after page of copy to edit and she'd accidentally thrown the finished pile into the shredder. That morning she'd poured twelve spoonfuls of coffee grains into the coffee maker and from her desk she watched in horror as several Planet employees cringed in disgust at the thick tar-like substance she'd created.

Her breakfast each morning sat untouched; her stomach churning at the very thought of eating a slice of whole grain toast and jam. Her nails were practically nubs on her fingers, chewed and torn from impatience. It was a miracle she even remembered her name when she answered the phone. How was she expected to write her speech for the Citizen's Assembly if she couldn't even focus for five minutes?

As she transferred a call to the advertising department, Lois knew this was her chance to sneak another incognito look Clark's way.

_What is your problem?_ She thought to herself, directing her internal question toward Clark. His tongue poked from the corner of his mouth, focused on whatever story he was writing.

With each passing day she increasingly became frustrated. After their date and the subsequent make-out session that took place on her couch, she'd been convinced they were on the same page when it came to their feelings for each other. But for whatever reason he hadn't called her and had barely even spoken to her since that night. Sure, there were smiles and polite conversation. He would often come to her desk and ask her to read over an article or two, but there'd been no mention of their date or what had transpired at her apartment that night.

Initially she'd told herself that the modern 20-something male waited three days before calling for a second date. But when the fourth day approached and no phone call came, Lois started to re-evaluate every moment of their date. She wondered if she'd had bad breath, if she'd talked too much or maybe she talked too little…

Her cousin, Chloe had told her to calm down, confident that Clark was simply busy and would certainly ask her out when things had slowed down. Guys were complicated creatures who seemed to operate by their own set of rules, she reminded Lois. They were never to be understood.

But Clark had always seemed to operate by a different set of rules. A set of rules that had been established in the 1950s where boys called the girl they liked right after the date. It was chivalrous and courtly and—

"Earth to Lois?" Clark waved his hand in front of Lois' face.

She blinked to attention. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Mmhm," she nodded, slipping a pencil behind her ear and absently running her fingers through her rolodex in an attempt to appear busy.

"Why do you still use that rolodex?" Clark questioned. "I showed you how to store your phone numbers in your Blackberry."

"And how many times have I lost, broken or had my phone stolen from me before? This old thing is durable and reliable." She pulled a card and turned it over in her hand. There was neither rhyme nor reason for her to have pulled it; it was simply a way to convince Clark that she hadn't just been staring in to space thinking about him.

Clark cleared his throat, gathering up enough nerve to continue. "I was going to wait until after work, but I guess now's as good a time as any. Chloe said we should talk… about last week… about what happened."

Lois' heart jumped into her throat, her eyes wide with embarrassment, her face coloured. "What? No!" She hastily declared. _She was going to kill her cousin!_ "There is nothing to talk about. We were both a little tipsy, things got out of hand… I get it. No big deal."

"Tipsy? I wasn't tipsy."

"Whatever, Smallville. I know you drink like a little girl, so clearly you have the tolerance of one. It was no big deal," she repeated. "Nothing happened. Game on the field, right?"

"Right…" Clark replied, hesitantly. "I mean, what?"

Holding the card that she'd randomly pulled from the rolodex, Lois stood and gathered her coat into her arms. "Listen, I've gotta run. Source to meet, story to write… you know how it goes."

Clark stood and began to gather his jacket as well. "Let me come with you…"

"No!" She cried out. "It's fine. The source will only talk to me. No one else," she lied. Looking down at the card she inwardly groaned, _Gino's Pizza_. Silently, she hoped Clark didn't question where she was headed because even she didn't know.

"We'll talk later Smallville." She pushed past him and headed toward the stairs. "I've got a story to chase."

As Lois disappeared up the stairs, Clark continued to stare after her unsure of what had just happened.

"Kent?" Called out Jason as he passed by, coffee cup held tentatively in his hand.

"Yeah?"

"Whatever is going on with you and Lane: Figure out. If I have to drink another one of these cups of pavement," he held up his cup and turned over its contents into a nearby trash bin. "I'm going to lose it. So whatever it is, fix it."

**...:::...**

The smell was unbelievable. A dank mixture of sewer, grime and garbage infiltrated Lois' senses. She hated chasing a story in Suicide Slum, but she was bound and determined not to return to the Planet without something to show for her absence.

"Lois Lane? Is that you?" A whispered voice called out from behind a dumpster.

"Eddie?"

Eddie slowly crept in to the light, his eyes darting along the stretch of alleyway. "I was hoping I'd run in to you today. You got any food on ya?"

Digging through her purse Lois produced a small packet. "Tic tac?"

He rolled his eyes. "Geez Lois, usually you have something good in that duffle bag you call a purse. Guy can't catch a break today."

"Sorry. Haven't been feeling very hungry lately. Anything to report?" Eddie was one of her informants in Suicide Slum; he liked his payment made in large quantities of jelly donuts and Pepsi.

"No donuts, no dice. You know the rules," he crossed his arms, indignant.

"Whatever Eddie. You're the one who crept out of the shadows to me. Call me when you got something good and then we'll talk food." Lois stepped back and turned on her heel attempting to call his bluff; it was a game she'd gotten good at playing in the seedy underbelly of Metropolis.

"Okay, okay! You win!" He reached out to stop her. "The feds have been all over this place at night. They've been looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?"

"The Blur?"

"You got it." He raised his eyebrows and shot a look down the alley.

"But why?"

"That new legislation. They're looking to make an example of him. Set him up is my guess."

"But how?"

"Not sure. My boys tell me that they're looking to pin him as a vigilante," he shrugged his shoulders. "Something's going to go down tonight. I don't like the feeling around here today."

Lois cocked her head, lips pursed. "The feeling?"

He nodded furiously. "Don't you feel it? It's all kinds of tense around here."

Lois knew he was right, the alley was strangely quiet, even the sewer rats seemed to sense the difference.

"Do you know what they're planning to do?"

Eddie shook his head. "The boys mentioned an icicle."

Lois furrowed her brows. "That's impossible. It's May."

"Listen, don't ask me. I'm just telling you what I heard." He held up his hands in defence and began to slink back in to the shadows. "I've gotta go. You're on your own Lois. Good luck."

She sighed and pulled her phone from her pocket. "Thanks Eddie. Next time donuts are on me."

As Eddie disappeared into the darkness, Lois began to scroll through her received calls. While the Blur had called her on occasion, his number was always protected. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn't easily reach him to warn him.

"Why do you have to be so damn secretive," she said aloud, tucking the phone in to the back pocket of her pants. She needed to stop whatever it was that was going to go down that night and there was only one way to do that.

**...:::...**

Clark had been paying attention to the police scanners all night. Criminal activity in Metropolis had recently picked up and it was throwing off his ability to live his life incognito at the Daily Planet. Thankfully, Chloe had been able to divert Lois' suspicions for the time being while he worked on getting things in the Blur side of his life under control. Unfortunately, it was starting to look like the Clark Kent side of his life was spiraling out from under him at the same time. Lois hadn't returned his calls since he'd last seen her and it was becoming increasingly apparent that he'd screwed up.

The District Attorney was on a rampage lately. Editorials in the Inquisitor detailed virtually everyday the "irresponsible actions" of the Blur. Public perception was quickly beginning to turn and people were starting to agree with the lies that were being published. Criminals, meta-humans and the meteor-infected were springing up from every corner of the city and Clark found himself speeding across Metropolis in an effort to corral the uprising of discontent.

That night the police scanners were particularly active, pointing him in the direction of Suicide Slum where a hell-bent meta-human was causing damage to the nearby buildings whilst calling for the Blur. What he hadn't expected to find when he'd arrived was Lois crouched behind a dumpster watching the white haired villain take revenge on innocent bags of garbage. Snow and fog clouded what should've been a warm spring night.

"Come out; come out where ever you are!" He cried out, stabbing anything in sight with icicles that appeared from his hands.

From a nearby rooftop Clark's eyes darted between Lois and the iced villain. While Lois continued to remain unseen, Clark was certain that it was only a matter of time before she was spotted.

In a flash, Clark leapt to the ground and sped Lois out of Suicide Slum, depositing her among a collection of gathered police cars and darkened vans.

Returning to his nemesis, he found himself blocking each blast of ice with his heat vision. Occasionally one would slip by and shatter against his chest.

"Stop!" A voice rang out from the darkness. Clark froze in position, his back to the source of the command. The white haired terror laughed maniacally and moved toward Clark, his stride confident and undeterred as he passed him.

Clark turned, shadowed by the darkness of the alley, confused. Red lasers pointed at his chest, semi-automatic weapons flashed in the flicker of a dying street lamp. Several armed men were dressed as though they were SWAT members, though their bullet proof vests lacked the appropriate accreditation.

"I brought him to you, now you need to keep your promise," the young man said to the gathered group. "See ya Blur," he added with a taunting smile as he turned the corner, ushered into an awaiting van.

"Step out into the light or we'll shoot." Undaunted Clark stared at the guards, confused by their willingness to fire upon him. He cocked his head, unmoved. "Step out into the light or we'll shoot," one repeated again. The sound of a gun popped into the night.

Suddenly Clark felt faint, his stomach churning, queasy. He looked down at his chest and saw a needle stuck through him, a vile of green liquid emptying into his body. His eyes begged to close; his body grew weak as each second passed. A second needle struck him in the arm, immediately paralyzing his limbs. Unable to speed away, unable to defend himself, he sunk to his knees and allowed blackness to swallow him whole.

**...:::...**

Lois grabbed on to a nearby wall, catching her breath as she'd been moved suddenly from one spot to the other. "The Blur…" she muttered to herself, realizing that he must've saved her; nothing else could explain the brief rush of wind and the obvious shift in location.

"Lois? Lois Lane?"

Lois looked up. "Detective Mills? Well, I'm glad to see you," she said relieved, dusting her pants off as she rose to her feet. "Care to comment on the iced wonder over there?"

"Lois Lane, you are under arrest." Mills pulled at her arm and moved her hands behind her back. "You are under arrest for obstruction of justice and for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive."

"What? What are you talking about?" She cried out, confused. "What fugitive? What's going on?" Mills turned her and began to recite her Miranda rights. He patted down her pockets and opened the back door to the police cruiser, pushing her head down so that she could better climb into the backseat. .

"I want my phone call!" Lois called out in a last ditch effort as the car door shut, silencing her.

**...:::...**

Every inch of Clark's body ached. It felt as though he'd run a marathon, experiencing all the pains he imagined a human might experience. He groaned and stretched out his muscles, a sudden realization of the recent events caused him to leap to his feet.

"Whoa, there Clark! You need to take it easy for a bit." Chloe poked her head out from behind the computer pad propped in her arms. "You had a rough night."

Clark's eyes adjusted to the light that shone through the oversized stain glass window inside Watchtower. "What—what happened? I thought—."

"Thought you'd died? Got caught by some hell bent anti-Blur government agents?" Clark gave a sheepish shrug. "Well you almost did. Green Arrow came to your rescue."

"Oliver?"

Chloe nodded and continued to tap her fingers against her computer's screen. "Oh, and your cell phone's been ringing off the hook. Brady's been trying to reach you." She pulled his cell phone from her back pocket and handed it to him. "I think it's important. He called like over 20 times."

Grateful for her and Oliver's intervention in last night's melee, he gave his friend a smile and took the phone from her. Holding the phone to his ear he began to listen to the numerous messages left on his voicemail.

_"Kent. Where the hell are you? It's Randall. Call me back. Immediately."_

_"Do farm kids not understand the word 'immediately'? I need you to run a story. Like yesterday. Call me."_

_"What is your problem Kent? Looking to wind up unemployed? Listen, maybe this will get you to call me back: Lane's been arrested."_

"Lois was arrested?" Clark exclaimed, stunned at Randall's revelation. Surely Chloe would've told him if that were the case.

"What?" She replied, equally shocked. "That's the first I've heard of it. Hang on." Putting her computer pad down, she moved toward a larger screen and began to tap her fingers along a keyboard, pulling up the Metropolis Police Department's website. Sure enough Lois' mug shot appeared with her information alongside it. "It says she was arrested for impeding a criminal investigation and for helping a fugitive!"

"Helping a fugitive? But who?"

**...:::...**

As he walked down the corridor of the police department's holding cell, his designer shoes made a clacking sound against the concrete floor. To his ears the sound signified confidence, an air apparent in each sharp tap demonstrating his power. Every morning when he pulled on the black loafers he relished in the smell of the expensive Italian leather and knew that it made a statement. Always one to boast his personal accomplishments, Ray Sacks felt that in order to be the best, you had to look the best.

"Lois Lane. Jail bird," he said mockingly, running his index finger along a horizontal bar of Lois' cell. "You paint such a picture behind these bars. I think an orange jumper will suit you well."

"Ray Sacks. Scum of the earth," she retorted with equal disdain. "I see you've still retained your love for the tacky. Nice shoes by the way."

Sacks clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Tsk, tsk Miss Lane. Have you forgotten that I'm the one that can decide to continue with your charges or perhaps—if the mood strikes me, that is—dismiss them?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "The irony isn't lost on me."

"How was that one phone call by the way? I heard you wasted it away calling that paper of yours. Still plugging away in the basement writing stories about kittens in trees?"

Lois narrowed her eyes and glared at Sacks. He was right; she had wasted her phone call. Rather than calling her lawyer, she'd chosen to call in a story to Randall. It might've caused her a few extra hours behind bars but it would be worth it in the end if she managed to expose the slimy District Attorney for what he really was.

Unable to elicit a response from Lois, Sacks continued. "Are you ready to make a deal, Miss Lane? Or did you want to wait until visiting hours tomorrow?"

"A deal with you? That's like making a deal with the devil." Lois crossed her arms against her chest and wondered what Sacks was looking for.

"I would think that's right up your ally," he countered.

"What do you want from me?"

"The Blur," he said simply.

Lois shook her head. "I don't know how to contact him. He always contacts me."

"Deny it all you want Lane, but you're his mouthpiece. You and only you alone can make or break his reputation here in Metropolis." Lois bit at her bottom lip, uncertain of the turn Sacks' demand was going to make. "I want you to break his reputation. I want you to expose him for the vigilante that he is."

Vehemently, Lois shook her head. "No," she refused. "I won't do it. You'll have to keep me locked in here then. I'm not going to print your lies."

"You already print lies Miss Lane." Noticing Lois' confusion, he continued. "Every time you write a story about how the Blur saved this person or that person you fail to note that there are hundreds of other crimes that are taking place around the world at the same time. Why does the Blur choose to save you from a burning building when there's an earthquake in China killing millions? What makes _your_ life worth more than that of others? Did you ever consider the hundreds of cops that are losing their jobs because the Blur has been keeping criminals off of the streets? Why should taxpayers pay for a police force if the Blur does the job of a hundred men and women… for free? Did you ever think of that?"

Silent, Lois simply shook her head. While she hated to admit it, Sacks had a point. How did the Blur make those life changing decisions to save one person but not another? "Why do you want the city to hate him so badly?" She asked.

"Because I don't believe that one man, especially one that has a super powered advantage over the rest of us, deserves to hold all the power in this city. I don't think he should be able to make decisions for us. The people didn't ask for his help and I guarantee that there are millions that would be just as happy if he disappeared; and millions more who'd rather he be punished for the life and death decisions he makes. He thinks he's a god among men and he's not.'

"You're making him out to be a monster!" Lois' face began to burn in anger. "The only monster in this story is _you_!"

Sacks cocked his head and gave Lois a warned look. "Don't say that I didn't give you a choice Miss Lane. When the line was drawn in the sand, remember this moment. Remember which side you stood on."

Lois squared her shoulders and moved towards the iron bars that separated her from Sacks. "I'll remember, don't you worry. I know which side I stand on."

With a slight shrug to his shoulders, the ever confident Ray Sacks turned on his heel and tossed a dismissive wave in Lois' direction. "I'm sure we'll meet again Miss Lane. Probably not under such good terms."

**...:::...**

"Lois they dropped the charges. Will you at least say something?" Clark begged following close at Lois' heels as she jogged down the steps of the police department toward an awaiting cab.

"Here hold this," she said tossing her police-issued Ziploc bag of personal property to him. She pulled her hair out of her face and tugged it into a ponytail.

"Lois…"

"Smallville, I just spent the night in jail on trumped up charges. You've ignored me for four… No, make that _five_ days now. What makes you think that I want to talk to _you_ right now?"

Clark furrowed his brow. "Five days? I haven't ignored you—" Realization dawned on him. "Wait, is this about what happened after the party?"

Lois pulled the door to the cab open. "Look Clark. It's fine. I had time to think about it. And maybe we were just drunk and-"

"I wasn't drunk."

"It was stupid, anyway."

Clark touched her arm at the elbow, turning her toward him. "It wasn't stupid Lois and you know it wasn't. Things just got… busy for me." He grimaced at the lameness of his own excuse.

She nodded. "Everything's always busy with you Clark. I sat in prison and—." She didn't complete the sentence and let her voice trail off.

"We need to talk about this, Lois."

After a moment of thought she sighed heavily and replied, "I know."

"Where're you going? The Planet?"

"Eventually. There's someone I need to find first." She stepped into the cab and pulled the door closed. After a beat she rolled down her window. "Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"This thing between us…it's just business, right?" The cab roared to life and jerked as the driver pulled it into gear.

Clark shook his head and over the sound of the rumbling engine, he replied, "No. It's not. It really isn't."

If Lois had planned on responding, she'd lost her chance as the car pulled away from the police station. Clark looked down at Lois' plastic bag which he still clutched in his hand. Maybe there would still be a way to find out her response.

**...:::...**

"I know you're out there," Lois called out into the darkness. The glow of the nearby phone booth partially lit the street around her. "If you're not busy I need to talk to you. Please?"

She turned and focused her eyes onto the rooftops of the buildings that surrounded her, looking for a shadow, hoping that he would hear her calling and answer her.

Just as she was about to admit defeat and return to her apartment, the phone from within the booth began to ring. She threw herself into the booth, the rush of anticipation propelling her forward. "Hello?"

"Miss Lane?" The familiar voice of the Blur greeted her on the other end. She smiled in relief.

"Thank you for calling." Realizing that she'd essentially took him from his job of protecting the city, she added: "If you have somewhere you need to be…"

He laughed a deep and throaty laugh. "Actually it's been rather quiet on the streets tonight, surprisingly. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"The D.A. had me locked up today. In jail, I mean. Not like prison or anything. Just the holding cell at the Metropolis P.D." Lois cringed. Why did she always seem to babble incessantly when the Blur was on the other end of the phone?

"I heard. If I'd known that leaving you with those officers last night would've resulted in that, I never would've left you there. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She turned and looked out of the phone booth and toward the rooftops. Lois could see a darkened figure standing upon one of them. She blushed. "Um… The reason I wanted to speak to you was to let you know that Sacks is trying to get the city to rise up against you."

"I know," he replied simply.

"It's more than the Disabled Powers Legislation though," she added. "I think he wants retribution."

"For what?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. He went on about the choices you make, about the people you save… but something seemed off. Not sincere, perhaps?"

"He's a criminal, Lois."

She nodded. "I figured as much." Lois had long suspected that he'd been embezzling money to fund Intergang's drug supplies. There was a time that she'd even come close to pinning the murder of the police chief on him only to have her sources disappear and her evidence disputed.

"He probably figures that if I put the criminals behind bars, he'll lose his influence over the city."

"He says that I'm your mouthpiece. That the way to get to you is through me." She heard him suck in his breath; the sound momentarily taking her by surprise. "He's not right, is he?" Lois asked, suddenly recalling the ominous words Sacks had left her with the night before. "Do you think he's going to try and kill me to get to you?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "But I wouldn't put it past him. I wish you'd lay low. You put yourself in danger too much…"

She chuckled lightly at the advice. "You sound like Clark."

"Perhaps, but you were the one in Suicide Slum who nearly got iced."

"From what I heard we both nearly did." He laughed, unable to argue with the logic. "I'm supposed to speak at the Citizen's Assembly tomorrow."

"What are you going to say?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Sacks wants me to tell them that you're a threat to Metropolis. That you put lives in danger every time you save someone."

"What do you think?" He challenged.

"I think there's some truth to it."

"But…?"

"But I can't deny the changes that I've seen. Both in Metropolis and…" she let her voice fade, unsure and perhaps even partially unwilling to continue.

"And in you?" The Blur offered. "Lois you're one of the bravest people I've ever met."

Her voice hitched. "You've never met me."

Ignoring her remark and silently cursing himself for the slip, he continued, "You're willing to take a chance and fight for justice when you see that there is none. You know what is right."

"But it's just so hard. How do you do it? I mean, how do you fight against all this political nonsense, with people out to destroy you and what you stand for… _alone_ all the time?"

"It's not easy, but there are people out there that support me. People like you, Lois."

She smiled into the phone at his words. "I'm not sure if I can do this by myself. The people at the Citizen's Assembly are Sacks' supporters. He probably hand picked them to pass the legislation."

"What about your partner?"

"Clark?" She asked, startled that the Blur would bring up his name. "He's not interested in helping me. Too busy to care apparently."

"He cares."

Lois cocked her head and stared quizzically into the darkness; the assuredness of his reply surprised her. "How do you know?"

Bemused he replied, "I get around this city. I see a lot. I help a lot of different people. He's got a lot on his mind, but something tells me that he cares for you, Lois."

"I don't know." Lois brought her hand to her forehead and pressed her fingers to her nose bridge. Now she was getting love advice from the Blur? Surely he had better things to do with his time?

"You should talk to him. Take a chance. It's not like you don't take chances in the other aspects of your life."

"I suppose," she replied with a slight smile. Realizing the hour, she offered a heavy sigh. "Listen, I'd better let you go. Big day tomorrow and all."

"I should probably get back on patrol anyway." He let out a soft sigh. "Lois?"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck. Just speak from your heart. You'll do what's right."

"Are you talking about Clark or the Citizen's Assembly?" The corners of her mouth pulled upwards.

"Both," he said with a light laugh.

A grin extended across Lois' face. "Thanks," she said, leaning against the glass of the phone booth. "For everything. And I'll try to stay out of trouble… for now anyway."

"Good night Lois."

"Good night."

**...:::...**

As Lois unlocked the door to the Talon, letting herself in, she wondered what the new day would bring. While the words that the Blur had spoken rung true, she hoped that she could live up to his vouch of encouragement. With her speech written, exhaustion threatened to consume her whole body.

"Clark!" She exclaimed, surprised to find him sitting at the top of the stairs by her apartment door. "What are you doing here?"

"Sarah said it was okay that I wait for you here. I hope you don't mind?"

Shaking her head, she climbed the stairs and sat next to him. "You left this behind," he said, handing her her Ziploc bag from earlier.

"Thanks." She fingered the plastic seal, unsure of how to proceed. She had so many questions and so much to say, yet nothing was coming to mind. The Blur had certainly made her reconsider her earlier impatience with Clark.

"I'm really, really sorry Lois," he said at last. "About everything. I mean where do I even begin?"

Lois lightly chuckled. "Let's start with the party." With a slight bob to her head she turned to look at him. "What's your deal, Smallville?"

Clark hung his head. "I have no excuse. Really. I did mean everything I said that night. And everything since then."

"And what about everything you did…?" She asked with a sly smirk, motioning toward her apartment.

Smiling at her comment, Clark admitted with a chuckle, "meant that too." He let his words hang in the air. Taking a deep breath, he faced her and continued, "I really would like to see you again. I mean like really go on dates. See where it all takes us."

"Yeah?" She asked, almost disbelieving. "And the whole ignoring me for days…?" She couldn't resist the opportunity to jokingly needle him.

"Lois!" With a humoured shake of his head, he said, "I'm never going to live it down am I?"

Biting back a smirk, Lois quipped, "probably not."

"I really did just loose track of time."

"I believe you. I think I may have over reacted just a little," she admitted motioning with her thumb and pointer finger. "I've got to tell Chloe to stop loaning me her _Men are From Space _books… they're going to make me paranoid!"

"Men are From Space?" Clark asked, recognizing the irony in the title.

"Shut up!" She laughed, pushing her shoulder into his. "They're these stupid books that translate what guys are thinking."

"Oh? What am I thinking right now?"

Lois paused and narrowed her eyes. Taking her hand she positioned her fingers onto Clark's forehead in an attempt to simulate the siphoning of his thoughts via her fingers. "You're thinking…. you're thinking…" Her eyes flew open, her mouth dropped agape. "Smallville! Such dirty thoughts!"

Clark laughed and batted her hand from his forehead. "Lois!"

"I had to Clark, it was too easy. You just walked in the door and… whammo! Caught ya." Lois roared with laughter at his temporarily horrified face. She had to admit it, she really enjoyed moments like this with Clark. Yes, he was often the bumbling reporter that spilled coffee on her keyboard, but more often than not Lois caught glimpses of someone different and that intrigued her above all else.

"You know Smallville, I wonder if I'll ever figure you out completely."

Clark cocked his head. "Where did that come from?"

Blushing, Lois shook her head. "Probably exhaustion."

He nodded, "Long day?"

With a chuckle, she agreed. It was the understatement of the century.

"I probably should get going anyway," Clark said rising to his feet. Joining him, Lois pulled out the keys to her apartment. "Tomorrow's the big day, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Any idea on what you're going to say?"

Lois shrugged. "I'll always do what's best for the people of Metropolis and if that means going against the current, then I'll do it."

With a smile Clark repeated the words he'd told her earlier as the Blur. "Well, good luck. Just speak from your heart."

Lois turned her head slightly at the intonation and familiar words, but ignored the pull in her gut. "Thanks Clark." She pushed up onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Clark watched as she moved toward her door and into her apartment. Just as she was about to close the door behind her, she poked her head back into the hallway. "Hey, Smallville?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to catch a movie or something tomorrow night?"

"You mean like an actual date?" Clark teased.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Absolutely."

She smiled at his response. "Great. I'll see you before the Assembly meeting tomorrow, then?" Clark nodded.

"Here!" She tossed a key to him. "Lock up the front door on your way out." He laughed. She gave him a wink, wished him a good night and returned into her apartment.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he breathed a sigh of relief as he exited the Talon. While the city's opinion on the Blur would constantly ebb and flow, Clark understood that the one source of constant support that he would have was with Lois Lane. She would question, counter and challenge him at every turn both as Clark and as the Blur; yet he knew that he could always count on her to understand what was right and to do what was just. She would tear down walls to find the truth. While it could be scary at times to see her throw herself headlong into danger, he knew that it only fueled her passion for justice. It was a passion that would always get Lois Lane the headline.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **The last two "rules" are for the most part written and just need some serious editing. I am going to do my darndest to try and get this story done with by the time the premiere rolls around. This coming weekend I'm going to be moving so I won't have much time for fanfic- but I promise you I will return as soon as things have settled. So stay tuned...! I think you all will really enjoy what is to come in the next two (and final!) rules.

Thank you to those that take the time to read & review. It means a lot to know that people take the time to read and write a comment. So thank you!

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* * *

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******.::**Rule 5: Never take deadlines seriously**::.**

**FLYING MAN TAKES OFF OUTSIDE OF CHURCH  
**_Metropolis Inquisitor Exclusive_

St. Paul's Community Church is currently seeing an influx of parishioners as many are convinced that a miracle took place outside of the small church yesterday. Several witnesses claim that they saw a man lift himself from the ground and take off into the sky.

"It was like he levitated right off the sidewalk," said Wichita resident Naomi Lambert who had just arrived at St. Paul's for a wedding. "One second he was right there, the next he was gone!"

Many believe that St. Paul's has seen a miracle occur right outside its front doors.

"It had to have been an angel," Michael Blockhart of South Metropolis declared. "What else could've possibly done that?"

Despite numerous witnesses having seen the man levitate from the ground and fly, none were able to provide police with an accurate description.

"We are confident that if there is indeed a flying man, he'll reveal himself in due time," said Metropolis Police Department's Detective John Jones. "Without a sufficient description we are unable to proceed with our investigation. We encourage anyone who may have witnessed this event to call 14 Division."

While the man who took to the skies outside of St. Paul's remains a mystery, locals speculate that the church may have witnessed its first miracle. "What else could it have been?" St. Paul's pastor James Nelson asked. "Surely it couldn't have been an alien!"

**...:::...**

"You're sure?" Lois asked into her phone. "Yes, of course I have a picture…" Her voice was beginning to rise in excitement. "Where should I meet you?" She pulled a pen and a slip of paper from her purse and quickly jotted down the information. "Give me a—" Lois paused and glanced toward her sister sitting next to her. Lucy's head was poised under a salon dryer, hair in rollers. The whirl of the dryer seemed to mask much of the noise around her as she flipped through an old copy of Starz Weekly, oblivious to Lois' phone conversation. "I'll be there soon. Don't go anywhere."

Lois had already shrugged the eager hairdresser away and completed her own style, amassing her long hair into a quick, yet styled, chignon. Lucy, on the other hand, insisted on approaching the day with deft calmness. She refused Lois' help with her hair, assuring her sister that the hairdresser was more than capable of completing the perfect look for her wedding day. And so the sisters sat side by side, one continuously looking at the time listed on her cell phone, the other thumbing through a magazine.

Glancing around the salon, Lois tried to think up an excuse that could get her out of her pre-wedding maid of honour duties. She tapped her fingers impatiently along the armrest of the chair. As the maid of honour, Lois had promised that nothing would prevent her from being there for her sister on her wedding day. Despite her impatience with the process, Lois knew she would be expected to shuttle Lucy to the Talon, pose for the photographer and make sure her little sister made it to the church in one piece.

What Lucy didn't realize was that Lois was on the brink of a front-page worthy story. A few weeks back, Lois had gotten word that someone was seeking out information about the Blur. Lois suspected that a new underground government organization had put out the request. In order to smoke out the source of the request, Lois had put out a call to her sources that travelled among the underbelly of Metropolis that she had information to share. In reality she was going to blow the door open on the organization and land herself a sizable front page headline.

Staring at her cell phone she watched the minutes tick by. She could probably convince Lucy that the posed photographs were cheesy… With some persuasion, Clark could bring her dress to the church and if the source was legitimate she could make it just in time to watch her sister walk down the aisle.

"Luce…"

Without looking up from her magazine Lucy replied, "Go."

"What?"

"Go. I know you have a story or something." Lucy looked up and smiled. "You'd better make sure that you're back before the Bridal Chorus starts or I'll send the General after you."

Lois leapt to her feet, leaned down and planted a kiss on her sister's cheek. "You're the best! I promise I'll be there in time to see you march down the aisle."

Lucy laughed, shaking her head. "I thought I was the one that was always up to no good."

Lois flung her purse over her shoulder and raced from the salon. Throwing her hand into the air she called a taxi and climbed in.

LLane to CKent 12:14am | Can you bring my dress to the church?

CKent to LLane 12:15am | Why? What are you up to? Where are you going?

LLane to CKent 12:15am | You worry too much. Can you bring it?

CKent to LLane 12:17am | Yes, of course. You're not going to get into trouble, are you?

LLane to CKent 12:18am | I'll fill you in later. Don't forget my dress!

**...:::...**

"Where is she?" Lucy pulled at her veil and tapped her foot nervously, pacing the classroom in the basement of the church. Clark looked at her sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders, unable to give her the answer she was looking for.

"Did she say where she was going?" Clark asked.

Becoming increasingly frazzled, she shot back: "I told you, it sounded like a story; I didn't ask her where she was going. Why can't she ever be on time?" Lucy puffed out her cheeks and blew out a breath. "I can't walk down the aisle without her there Clark. You have to find her."

Clark nodded his head, understanding. While the guests were still arriving at the church, he wondered how much time he would need in order to find Lois. It seemed like an impossible mission. He didn't even know where to begin. She could be any where in Metropolis, if not even further and all he had to go on was that it was some story she'd been working on.

Pulling out his cell phone, he tried for what seemed like the hundredth time to reach her and still she refused to answer. Lois, frustratingly, never picked up her cell or answered a text when she was hot on the trail of a story.

Lucy leaned against a desk and reconsidered the brief conversation she'd had with her sister earlier in the salon. "She seemed really excited. I mean… it was hard to hear because of the dryers you know? Something about a picture… I dunno. It's stupid and it'll get you nowhere I'm sure."

"Picture?" Clark narrowed his eyes and thought about what story Lois could possibly be working on. Chloe had mentioned that there'd been a request sent out for a photo of the Blur… but Lois couldn't possibly have a photo, Clark was fairly certain about that. He'd even scaled back his phone conversations in hopes that she'd avoid trying to identify the caller. Squaring his shoulders, Clark stood tall. "I'll find her Lucy. I promise."

Lucy nodded, momentarily reassured by his determination. "Hurry Clark."

**...:::...**

Lois exhaled a heavy sigh and glanced at her watch, time was quickly getting away from her. She hoped she could convinced whomever she was meeting with to trust her long enough that she could find out any valuable information. As it was, she was halfway across town at the old abandoned storage warehouse; she'd need to leave at least 15 or 20 minutes in order to get to the church in time for Lucy's nuptials.

"Lois Lane?" A male voice asked from the darkened shadows.

"Who's there?"

"Did you bring the photos?"

Lois nodded, lying. She had no photos to speak of and hoped that she could convince the shadowy figure of her bluff. "First you need to tell me who you are."

The figure shook his head. "No. You said you had proof of who the Blur is… let's see it then."

Hoping to stall, Lois said, "I know the Blur personally and if I'm going to show you these photos I want to make damn sure I know what you're going to do with them."

A second figure, this time a woman, joined the first. Her identity was likewise concealed by the shadows of the warehouse. "You don't know the Blur. I can see it in your face," she said matter-of-factly.

"If you can see my face, why can't I see yours? What says you should have the advantage?" Lois challenged.

The woman laughed. "Miss Lane, how foolish of you. As if I'd trust my identity to a cub reporter that's looking to make a name for herself at the Daily Planet. You blindly believe that everyone's as fool hearted as you are."

Lois narrowed her eyes and began to mentally scan the area for an escape route. She could sense that this meeting was not going the way she'd planned it to.

"I'm only going to ask you this once, and you'd better consider your answer carefully, Miss Lane. Do you know the identity of the Blur?"

"Why do you want to know who he is?" She countered in return.

"Silly girl. You've blindly fallen into the illusion that the Blur has created, haven't you? He is a danger to this country and needs to be exposed for what he really is."

"A danger? How?"

"He believes himself to be a god among men. Looking down upon us from the rooftops, judging who's worthy and who isn't."

"So because he saves people and wants to do good for the world, that somehow makes him a danger to this country?" Lois was beginning to wonder if this mysterious woman had a connection to the District Attorney, their arguments were eerily similar.

The woman laughed and shook her head. "There is so much more that you can't even fathom to imagine, Miss Lane. If you choose to side with the Blur, you are choosing to sacrifice your country—your world—to an alien invasion and I can guarantee that you will not like what is in store for you."

Questions raced through Lois' head, but she couldn't find the words to articulate them. If what the curious stranger in the darkness was saying was true, this meant that the Blur was… an alien?

The woman flipped her wrist at the man who'd accompanied her. "She has nothing. Take care of her." Slinking back into the darkness, the woman disappeared leaving Lois face to face with the barrel of a gun, the man now fully exposed into the light.

"Wait! Don't do this, please!" She begged, her voice hitching in her throat as she backed further away from her assailant. Her mind raced. Thoughts of Clark, her sister, Chloe… all flashed through her mind as her heart raced, damning herself for not telling anyone about where she'd run off to. "People know where I am," she tried, helplessly. "You'll be exposed—"

A metal click sounded, guaranteeing certain demise. With an easy turn of his index finger, he pulled back on the trigger.

**...:::...**

The blare of horns, the skidding of tires, a crossing guard's whistle… the whirl of the city flowed like a deluge into Clark's mind. While he'd tried practicing the skill of honing in on one misplaced voice in the city of millions, he had so little success at it. In Smallville it came so easily; yet in Metropolis amid the myriad voices laughing, crying, shouting, talking- the one voice he hoped to hear was lost.

Sound blurred around him. Every moment- the scratch of a fingernail on skin, the flurry of fabric brushing along an arm, the bat of an eyelash- carried sound. To the average person, the minute sounds were rarely picked up. With Clark's heightened abilities, he heard it all.

Closing his eyes he begged for focus; called on every ounce of strength within his body to draw Lois' sounds to him. He'd spent so many days watching and listening to her, her sound patterns were familiar to him. Everyone had them; even the simplest sounds like the clacking of shoes on the pavement were unique to each person. That singular resonance of hers should've beat against his eardrums like raindrops hitting a window pane.

Instead he heard a baby cry, a door slam, a car alarm wail…nothing that would lead him to Lois. He clenched his fist in frustration and silently pleaded in vain for the city to be still for just a moment.

Clark tried again. He closed his eyes, willed himself into focus and pushed through the reverberations. It was like swimming through mud, every sound dueling for his attention.

_"Hey buddy, watch where you're going!"_

_"I think we should be just friends…"_

_"Mommy can I have a chocolate bar. Please?"_

_"That'll be $14.56."_

_"I'll be home soon, I promise. I love you."_

While the last ephemeral voice hadn't belonged to Lois, it triggered a memory within him. Clark and Lois had only been together romantically for a short time and every day he was learning new things about her. Just recently, he'd noticed for the first time that she always put her toothbrush in her rinsing cup, never leaving it flat on the counter to dry.

_Thump… Thump…Thump…_

In other ways, it felt like they'd been together for years. During breakfast they would methodically split the newspaper- Clark taking the city news section and Lois sports. At night, when he'd stay over at her new apartment in Metropolis or she at the farmhouse, he would hold her tightly against him, afraid to let her go; her body curled against his.

_Thump…Thump…Thump…_

"It took us so long to finally just… come together, you know?" She'd said one night, nestling her head into the crook where his shoulder met his arm. "I think the way that I see it is that every day is different, special, unique… just amazing in its own right…"

_Thump…Thump…Thump…Thump…Thump…_

The beats came faster; the steady patter of confidence quickly turned into one of urgency. He could hear her, had found her amidst the millions. His feet rising from the ground, he was oblivious to any bystanders and sped into the sky. His newly honed power of flight brought him to the abandoned storage warehouse in less than the blink of an eye.

The sound of a lightning blast reverberated off of the empty metal bins of the warehouse. In terror, Lois ducked away from the bullet, covering her head and turning her back to her shooter. Strong arms enveloped her from behind, causing her to gasp in shock at the sudden touch. The bullet pinged against her protector's back and fell to the floor. Clark turned his head and fired from his eyes, heating the gun so that its shooter dropped it to the floor. He released Lois, grabbed the assailant and deposited him at the nearest police station, leaving behind the Blur's calling card—the symbol of the House of El.

In returning to the warehouse- as Clark- he found Lois staggering out, squinting into the sunlight.

"Smallville!" She called out to him in relief. "Am I ever happy to see you!" She threw her arms around his shoulders and held onto him, tight.

"Are you okay?" Clark asked, concern echoing through his words. "Are you hurt?" He pulled back from her embrace and scanned her body for injury. He breathed a sigh of relief; from a physical standpoint she had been unharmed.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think the Blur saved me." She shook her head. "Wait, what time is it?"

"It's just past two."

"Damn it." She stepped out into the street, put one hand into the air and used the other to whistle from her fingers. Within seconds a cab had parked along side her. She pulled the door open and moved to step into it. "You coming Smallville?"

"Wait, Lois," he covered her hand that sat upon the window of the door. "What happened back there? Where were you?"

"Clark, my sister is about to get married and I'm no where near the church. Everything is fine. It was all a… let's say it was a misunderstanding on my behalf. I promise, I'll explain everything later." Noticing his reticence, she reassured him with a smile. "I'm fine; really I just want to get to the church."

Lois sat into the cab, pulling her feet in after her. "Clark? You coming?" She asked, looking up at him as he hesitated on the sidewalk.

With a sudden, unabashed courage he declared, "I'm in love with you."

"What?" She responded, unsure if she'd in fact heard what she thought she'd heard.

Leaning down into the cab, he repeated, "I'm in love with you, Lois Lane."

"Clark…"

"No. Let me finish," he said defiantly, ignorant of the cab driver who listened in on his declaration. "I love you and I would do anything to protect you. But you can't go on like this."

"Go on like what?" She asked, bemused.

"Running into dangerous situations like this… if anything happened to you, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"Oh Clark…" She said with a helpless sigh. "You always have the weight of the world on your shoulders. I'm fine. The Blur saved me, case closed. You don't even know what happened in there, and you're assuming the worst. I know that you worry about me, but you shouldn't… with the Blur out there, even with my penchant for getting in to trouble, everything always works out." With a soft smile she motioned within the cab. "Now please get in the car so that I can watch my baby sister walk down the aisle at her wedding."

Unconvinced, Clark relented and climbed into the taxi, pulling the door closed behind him. Lois gave the address and the car pulled into gear and moved into traffic with its passengers sitting in silence.

Despite what Lois had said to Clark, she felt guilty just the same. She knew Clark worried about her and as she'd told the Blur before, she didn't mean to put herself into harms way _all_ of the time… it just always seemed to find her, regardless. Looking over at her tireless boyfriend whose suit had nary a scratch on it, she knew his words had been truthful. If anything had happened to her, he _would_ never forgive himself. And if anything happened to him…

"Smallville?" She said quietly and hesitantly. He looked toward her and she reached out and took his hand in her own. Taking a deep breath she forged ahead. "I love you too and if anything were to happen to you… " Clark nodded and tightened his hand around hers. "What I'm trying to say is that I can't promise I'm going to stay out of trouble and that the crazies in this town won't find me somehow…"

Clark couldn't help but chuckle. Even if Lois tried, trouble _would_ somehow just find her. And of course she thrived on the thrill that came with chasing down a story. "You're right. Asking you not to get in trouble is like asking the sun not to set. Or asking a bull to be careful in a china shop. I just can't help but worry about you… you know?"

Lois nodded. "I know."

"Maybe we can try and work together more on those "dangerous" stories you love to go on the hunt for?" Clark suggested with a smirk.

"Oh Smallville! Very clever! Trying to hone in on my front pages-" She laughed at his suggestion. Upon realizing that the taxi had pulled up in front of the church, she handed several bills to the driver and began to climb out of the cab. "If you came face to face with danger you'd probably pass out from the excitement of it all," she added teasingly.

The corners of Clark's mouth quirked upward and he nodded. "You're probably right, Lois."

As she dashed toward the oversized wooden doors, she skidded to a halt and turned back toward Clark who'd just climbed out of the taxi. Cheeks flushed, she asked, "Did we…earlier… exchange the "L" word for the first time?"

Clark looked at her and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yes, I think we did."

She briefly bit at the corner of her lip, before allowing her mouth to move into a complete grin. "I think I like the sound of that…"

Returning her smile, Clark replied, "I do too."


	6. Chapter 6

******.::**Rule 6: Triple check your facts**::.**

**DARE WE REVEAL OUR HEROES' IDENTITIES?  
**Clark Kent

This century has proven itself to be the era of heroism. In many cities across the nation, heroes are stepping up and defending their communities from the darkness that threatens to consume it. They risk their lives and their families' lives for a greater good that we can only hope to understand.

Yet we continue to beg our heroes to step out of the shadow and reveal themselves to us. We clamour for information on their identities and postulate as to who could be behind the masked avengers. Yet we never truly attempt to understand their rationale for staying hidden and out of the spotlight.

Do we hope that they'll reveal themselves because we live in an age of celebrity? Or do we hope they'll reveal themselves so that we can thank them? Worse, perhaps we want to chastise them for their mistakes?

When we look to the skies in the hopes of seeing the Blur, do we fear who he is? Or do we see him as a symbol of hope? So many questions, yet one thing is for certain we can never truly understand the motivations of our heroes.

For some of our heroes they may look to avenge a wronged past. Others might be vigilantes seeking justice. Then there are those that see it as their opportunity to share their gifts and encourage a sense of pride among citizens.

We call on the Blur to reveal himself to us, yet do we truly understand our own motivations? He should challenge us, should motivate us to better ourselves. And so, on the fateful day when the Blur reveals himself to the world, we shouldn't seek out ways to expose his identity. Through exposure we will risk those that are close him and possibly even his own life.

If he does come into the light, we need to understand his role in our world. For our heroes, masked or otherwise, should inspire us to emulate their goodness. It is a gift that must be repaid in our self-imposed ignorance and our dedication to protecting their secrets.

**...:::...**

The words had been on her lips for weeks; in fact she'd wanted to ask him shortly after having moved into her new apartment near the Daily Planet. But she needed to wait for the right moment, the right time.

_"Smallville's too far; my apartment is just five blocks from the Planet…"_

"_Ben Hubbard's already taking care of the farm…"_

"_I can't sleep, when you're not around…"_

"_Move in with me…"_

Whenever she would think the right moment had come, Clark would rush off to another "farm emergency" or to see a source about a story. It aggravated her to no end, but she would easily accept his explanations. Clark Kent was an open book, after all.

_"It's getting late Lois, I should go…"_

"_You know I forgot to check on the tractor, the mechanic was supposed to come by today…"_

"_I think I left the stove on…"_

"_I just remembered there's this source I have to meet and he'll only talk to me…"_

Each time Lois would bite her tongue, give a weary smile and nod. She desperately wanted this relationship to work, _needed_ it to succeed. Each time Clark would give her a quick kiss on the lips or a peck on the cheek and would disappear out her front door or around a street corner or through the Planet's revolving door. And each time Lois would silently kick herself for her emotional weakness.

She loved him. She loved him so much that she was willing to throw caution in to the wind and ask him to move in with her.

Bound and determined one night, Lois ordered Chinese food from Clark's favourite local restaurant. She'd intended to make him a nice dinner, but thought better of it. The night needed to be perfect and that meant there could be no burnt pot roast or potatoes that were glued to the bottom of a pan.

In her romanticized version of the night she would be sitting across from Clark watching him struggle with his chopsticks. Naturally she'd end up showing him how to use them for the hundredth time, and naturally he would forget for the hundredth time (she'd secretly wondered if he always forgot on purpose). Inevitably the Chinese food would be left cold on the table, dismissed when Clark would seize her arm and draw her on to his lap. Their bodies would become a tangled mess under the dining table or on the couch or - if they made it to the bedroom- on the bed.

That was how the night _should've_ gone.

Instead, as Lois was gathering plates from the cupboard, her cell phone vibrated in her pocket.

CKent to LLane 8:56pm| Rain check?

Lois sighed. "Figures," she said aloud, shaking her head.

LLane to CKent 8:59pm| Sure. But you'd better not stand me up tomorrow. Or I'll send the General your way.

CKent to LLane 9:04pm| I promise. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

With a satisfied grin, Lois returned her cell phone to her pocket and closed the cupboards where her dishes lay. While the dinner was ruined and her plans thwarted for the umpteenth time, there was still tomorrow.

Clark and Lois had been invited by the enigmatic Bruce Wayne to attend a charity dinner at Wayne Manor. It was the perfect opportunity for Lois to corner Bruce and secure an elusive interview. While he'd promised her an exclusive months earlier, her calls had been largely dismissed by his secretary or butler. Bruce continued to elusively thwart her attempts at every turn. She was determined to scoop the Gotham Gazette at whatever the cost.

She was certain there was a story behind the playboy exterior and tragic familial past and if anyone was going to get it out of Bruce Wayne, it would be Lois Lane. Having Clark along for the event was an added bonus. She was sure he would be able to distract the ever-intruding butler long enough for her to ask Bruce some hard-hitting questions.

In an attempt to distract herself, Lois busied herself with tasks in her room that she'd typically ignore. She began to pull out every last sock, every tattered bra, every night slip that had been disastrously thrown in to her top drawer.

The pieces she hadn't worn in years were tossed in to a corner of her room. By the time she finished her cleaning, she'd emptied an entire drawer.

Her heavy eyes could barely stay open. Exhausted, she curled on top of her bed and fell fast asleep.

**...:::...**

Lois stared at her watch, her heeled foot taping against the cobblestone walkway outside of Wayne Manor. Limousines and Escalades arrived one after the other and Lois watched as celebrities, politicians and financiers piled into the spacious estate.

"Lois!" Clark called out; his bowtie lay at his collar untied.

"You're late… again, Smallville!" Lois chastised. Often it felt like she should have a recording made of those words as they were often repeated when it came to Clark Kent.

"I know, I know—I'm really sorry. I just got caught up with something—."

"Back at the farm, yeah I saw your text." She pulled at the loose bowtie and began to tie it effortlessly. "You're lucky I heard someone say that Bruce hasn't arrived yet."

Clark nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose and sniffed the air, hoping that he didn't still smell of cinders and ash courtesy of a volcano that had erupted in Hawaii. "Ready?" He asked, offering his arm to Lois.

"As I'll ever be." She took his arm and allowed herself to be led into the Manor.

A servant held the door open for them and took Lois' coat. "You're expected in the ballroom," he explained motioning toward the grand room just beyond an elaborately decorated hallway.

"This place is huge," Lois whispered, suddenly feeling underdressed among the glamorous modelesque women wearing designers that she couldn't even try to name.

"Relax," Clark said, as they walked toward the ballroom. "You look absolutely gorgeous."

Surprised, Lois stopped midstride and questioned him. "How did you know that I was worried about my dress?"

"You've got a death grip on my hand." He held up their joined hands, Lois' nails digging into Clark. "And there are very few things you freak out about. Fashion is one of them."

Sheepish, Lois loosened her hold. "Sorry," she muttered. She hated it when Clark was right.

As they continued along the hallway, both marveled at the intricate detail. Arriving in the grand ballroom, Lois' breath hitched in her throat. Over three stories in height, the room sparkled with lights that reflected off of oversized mirrors that hung along each side of the room. People mingled throughout as waiters brought champagne to the guests and an orchestra filled the room with music.

"Wow."

"That is an understatement, Smallville." Both Lois and Clark were mesmerized by what was before them. Clark, having been to numerous events at the Luthor mansion, had never seen anything quite so elaborate.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," a man stepped up to a microphone, silencing the band. "I'd like to thank you for coming and if we can all welcome our host for this evening… Mr. Bruce Wayne." The room erupted into applause as Bruce entered the room; two beautiful women linked in each arm.

"Welcome friends! It's nice to see you all." Bruce took the microphone from his assistant and ran a hand through his handsomely disheveled hair. "Please drink, eat and be merry. I know I will." With a wink to his captive audience and a wave of his hand, the music started anew and couples took to the dance floor.

Lois began to move backward, away from the crowd that was beginning to gather around Bruce. Noticing this, Clark questioned her.

"Please Clark, with all those people he's barely going to give me the time of day, much less a story. I have a better idea." Grabbing Clark's hand, she pulled him into an adjoining room that many of the waiters seemed to be coming in and out of. Bypassing the servants, she effortlessly moved through the kitchen and into a service hallway.

"Lois, what are you doing?" Clark asked, pulling at her elbow.

"I'm going to find a story," she said as she turned a corner. "Are you going to help me or hinder me?"

Clark gave her a familiar look; it was one Lois had seen numerous times throughout their friendship and certainly into their partnership at the Daily Planet. It was a look that was one of disapproval, but at the same time sought to protect her.

"You're coming along, aren't ya?" Lois said with a smile, thrusting her fist into Clark's arm.

Clark followed her along the hallway, keeping his senses on alert in case someone was to come along and catch them. Lois peered into doorways and made her way along the hall, oblivious as always to potentially getting caught.

"Here, this one looks interesting." She pushed the door open further and revealed what looked to be a sitting room and office. A fire place sat at one end with a chaise next to it. Along the opposite wall was an elaborate bookcase, filled with tomes that appeared ancient. In front of a window was a beautifully carved oak desk laden with papers and files.

Lois immediately went toward the desk and began to search through the papers.

"What exactly are you looking for, Lois?" Clark asked, joining her.

"I'm not sure," she replied honestly. "But these wealthy types always have secrets they're hiding. I'm sure I'll find something hidden in these papers. Enslaved children in a third world country. Offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Bribery of political officials and police agencies. You never know. Have you forgotten all your problems with the Luthors?"

"I haven't forgotten Lois. But really do you think you should be going through Bruce's desk like this. Have you forgotten that he owns the Daily Planet? What if someone finds you?" He asked crossing his arms.

"That's what you're here for Smallville. You're my look out. So go and look out." She pushed him toward the door and continued to riffle through the desk.

Coming up empty handed, she moved toward the fireplace. "Now what are you doing?" Clark asked, flustered. He knew that it was only a matter of time before someone discovered them, and Lois' flair for getting herself into these situations only heightened the risk.

"Rich people always have secret passages, don't you know?" Lois pulled at a candelabra that sat on the mantle, lifted a photograph, shifted the painting. Nothing moved. "Humf." She pursed her lips and examined the room, eyes narrowing on the book shelf.

"I bet—" Before she could finish her sentence Clark's lips were on hers, engaging her in an impassioned kiss, surprising her. Her back hit the nearby chaise, tipping it sideways. In spite of Lois' muffled cries of surprise, Clark pressed on. "Clark!" She gasped, pushing him away. "What the heck?"

"Someone's coming!" He whispered urgently, pulling her closer.

"Look!" Her hand grabbed at his chin and directed his face to the direction of the fireplace. There was a visible opening on the right side. "Come on!" Removing herself from his grasp she took him by the hand and within seconds they were on the reverse side of the fireplace, hidden from view just as the door to the office swung open.

"What have you done, Lois?" Clark whispered, nervously glaring at her. This was not going to end well for them if they wound up caught.

"Shh!" She commanded, standing on her toes looking through a small peep hole in the wall. "It's that butler of Bruce's, he's looking around."

Clark moved next to Lois and pushed his glasses down his nose to use his super sight in order to see what she was seeing. True to her word, Alfred was suspiciously looking around the room, certain that something was amiss. He moved toward the desk and examined the slightly shuffled papers that lay there. Unsatisfied, he moved toward the fireplace. Lois let out a light gasp and ducked from her peep hole. Alfred pursed his lips and paused at the fireplace, cocking his head quizzically. Shaking his head, he moved toward the door and exited the room.

"That was close!" Lois declared as Clark pushed the glasses up his nose. "What the heck were you looking at?"

"There was a little crack in the wood," he lied. Satisfied with his answer, Lois turned toward the dark abyss that lay before them.

"Well we might as well have a look around."

Eyes wide, Clark shook his head. "We can't. We'll get fired if we're found."

"Clark! Seriously, you need to relax." Lois opened her purse and pulled out a small flashlight. "First of all, we're not going to get fired because we're not getting caught. Secondly, this secret passage could lead to something big and I for one am not going to pass up that possibility."

"Lois—"

"You coming, Smallville or not?" She asked, turning the flashlight on. Begrudgingly Clark mumbled in the affirmative. "That's the spirit!"

"One question though," Clark asked following her along the narrow passageway that dipped downward. "Do you always have a flashlight in your purse?"

Lois chuckled. "You know my motto: Always be prepared."

"I thought that was the Boy Scouts?"

"How about we talk about the big ole kiss you planted on me back there?" Lois said, diverting attention.

"What about it? Someone was coming!" He defended with a laugh.

"And your first instinct was to make out with me?"

"It's always my first instinct where you're concerned."

"Dirty thoughts again, Smallville?" Lois teased.

"Only sometimes. When the mood strikes."

Lois' mouth hung agape. It was rare that her boyfriend was so candid with her. "Clark Kent! Who knew?"

Clark gave Lois a sidelong glance, his mouth quirking upward. He needed to get himself in check or else Bruce was going not only find two journalists lurking in his secret passage, but two journalists—

"Oh my god!" Lois exclaimed, pulling Clark from his reverie. "What is all this?"

Clark followed Lois' line of vision and his eyes widened at the sight before him. They had wondered onto on a mezzanine that overlooked an impressive warehouse of cabinets, cars and computer equipment. It seemed as though the room hummed, the machinery illuminating the darkness of the space. The cars were unlike any he had seen before. Their size could only rival that of military style Hummers, but yet were sleek in design, painted a jet black. Surrounding the cars was a variety of weapons. Crossbows, throwing stars, batons, boomerangs, grapnels all sat on display, waiting at the ready.

"Is that…" Lois began, pointing toward the back of the warehouse at a series of thickly padded neoprene suits. "What I think it is?" Stunned, Clark could only nod.

"Bruce Wayne is—"

"The Batman," Clark finished.

**...:::...**

"Do you know what this means?" Lois said excitedly, as they made their way back to the ballroom. "We've got the biggest story Gotham, Metropolis, Star City… you name it, has ever seen!" Clark nodded, his mind still spinning from their discovery. "We are going to blow the Daily Planet out of the water. I bet we win a Pulitzer for this one."

"Lois—"

"How do you suppose he gets those military trucks? Those are nothing like anything I've seen on the base. Definitely not standard issue, that's for sure-"

"Lois—"

"Do you suppose he has powers like the Blur? I mean I've read about some of his saves before but none of them seem to be superhuman, you know?"

"Lois!"

Lois stopped in her tracks and turned to face Clark. "What?"

"Are you going to _ask_ Bruce about what you found?" It was a fair question, to be sure. They didn't have photographic evidence and certainly it would just be matter of their word against his if the story went to print.

"Damn it," she cursed, biting her lip. She needed to think of a way to ensure that this story went to print and having Wayne Enterprises holding the purse strings of the Daily Planet didn't help matters. "Wait a second. The breakout at Blackgate."

Clark looked at her confused. "What about the breakout at Blackgate?"

"Remember Bruce left in a hurry? And then all of a sudden we find out that Batman saves the day."

"Coincidence," Clark challenged.

Lois planted her hands on her hips. "It's an awfully big coincidence, Smallville. Why would Gotham's dark knight be hanging around Metropolis on the very night that Bruce Wayne is hosting a party?"

"I'm not saying you're wrong Lois, just that you're taking a big risk. We don't have the proof that we need—"

"I can get the proof!"

"How?"

"We can trace back all of the Batman saves and compare it to Bruce's public appearances. It's enough to do a speculation piece at the very least. If he bites then we know we're on to something. It's worth a try, Clark."

He gave a deep sigh and looked across the ballroom where Bruce was flirting with a group of Russian supermodels. Was it possible that the billionaire playboy and he could share the same past time? There was only one way to find out.

"Leave it to me Lois. I think I have an idea."

**...:::...**

Clark stood on a rooftop, scanning the horizon for the elusive Batman. His long, dark jacket would occasionally catch in the wind, sending a brief chill along his spine. Horns honked in the distance and voices echoed in the darkness. The gloomy, dim lights of the city provided an easy cover for Clark as he kept his position waiting for the slightest indication that the dark knight of Gotham was near.

Then, at last, he saw the infamous call in the sky. The hazy, golden bat symbol reflected against a grey cloud. Clark seized the moment, cognizant that the Batman would soon surface.

The advantage of speed and flight on his side, Clark quickly found his target perched on the edge of an abandoned warehouse on the south side of town, a grappling hook in hand. The clamor from the docks below created an easy cover as Clark sent his body into the Batman, throwing him to the ground.

"What the hell—?" His gruff voice declared, wrestling against Clark's strength, unable to budge beneath the Kryptonian mass. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Actually I should probably ask you that question," Clark retorted, focusing his vision on the masked crusader. The layers of neoprene faded away as the true identity of the Batman revealed itself to Clark. "Bruce Wayne," he said simply, releasing his hold on the Gotham millionaire.

So he and Lois had been right.

Bruce leapt to his feet, his gloved hands moving toward his helmet as if to ensure that it was indeed still on his head. "How'd you-?" He glared at Clark. As realization dawned on him, Bruce snarled his lips and said, "the mild mannered reporter from the Daily Planet is Metropolis' Blur? Nice mask."

When Clark didn't react or respond to Bruce's sarcastic attack, his adversary moved toward him. "Now that you know, are you planning on making me a front page story?"

Clark crossed his arms against his chest. "I thought about it," he said honestly.

"But?"

"But nothing. I still haven't made up my mind."

"Are you bribing me?" Clark shook his head. It had never been his intention to bribe Bruce if he'd proven his and Lois' original theory.

"I'm looking for insight."

"What?" Bruce growled, growing impatient.

"Why haven't you revealed who you are to everyone?" Clark asked. "Why do you lurk in the shadows? You're one of the wealthiest men in America, you have everything you could ever want and yet here you are standing on a rooftop in the worst part of town waiting for some criminal mastermind to slip up."

"Are _you_—the elusive Blur— asking me why I don't reveal myself to the world?" Bruce asked, disbelieving. "You're a moron."

Clark raised his eyebrows, but was undeterred.

"You stand there and judge me?" Bruce continued. "You? The wunderkind from Smallville? The same guy who would miraculously save people and then convince everyone it was a coincidence that he was in the right place at the right time." Through his mask, Bruce's eyes glared with renewed intensity. "Yeah that's right. I looked into you. Into both of you."

"And?" Clark prompted.

"Your girlfriend's been telling her sister that she wants you to move in with her. I'm guessing she has no idea that you moonlight as Metropolis' saviour. Cause she also seems to have a bit of a crush on the Blur."

Clark's face fell at Bruce's revelation. He'd suspected it for a while, but to hear it made it seem all the more real. "How do you know all this?"

"It's like you said. I'm one of the wealthiest men in America. I'm also one hundred percent invested in my purchases and the people who work within them. I make their business my own."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Bruce narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to Clark. "Why do _you_ hide in the shadows?" When Clark didn't answer, he continued. "See that symbol up there?" He pointed toward the hazy glow of the bat against the sky. "It's not a symbol of hope. It's a symbol of fear. When the people of Gotham see it they aren't relieved, they're scared. They're scared because they know that within the shadows of this city waits some monster ready to pounce. That symbol doesn't make them feel safe, it just reaffirms their fear. Reminds them that they need to lock their doors, because if they were safe, there'd be no more Batman."

Clark lowered his eyes and considered Bruce's revelation. He'd heard about the types of criminals that tormented Gotham City and in fact had written about a few on occasion. But what he hadn't realized was what the bat symbol meant to Bruce, to his city. It certainly wasn't what he'd intended when he'd begun to leave his markings as the Blur.

"I protect my identity because I don't want the people of Gotham to see me as their protector. I don't want them to need me or call out for me in the darkness." He turned back toward the bat symbol. "I hate Gordon's calling card. To me it's just a reminder that my job isn't over. That I'll probably die before all the crime is washed clean from the streets."

Clark glanced down at the symbol that adorned his own chest. He'd never want the silver "S" of the House of El to evoke a feeling of doom and despair. He'd meant it to encourage hope and pride among the people of Metropolis.

"If you want that symbol of yours to mean more than what mine does, then you're going to need to step out from the shadows," Bruce explained. "We aren't the same and we certainly don't guard over our cities the same way." He leaned over the edge of the building at the bustle of activity on the docks. "If you'll excuse me…" With a quick shift of movement, a cord sprung free from one of Bruce's gloves and landed onto a fire escape below. He gave a curt nod and dove from the rooftop, throwing himself into the air and back into the shadows of anonymity below.

**...:::...**

"What's this about?" Lois asked as she slapped the folded paper on to Clark's desk.

He looked up from his computer screen, confused. "What's what?"

"This article." She pointed at his byline that was below the fold. "You didn't even talk about our suspicions on Bruce."

Clark sighed, pursing his lips and considered his next words. "I didn't think it was my place—our place to expose Bruce like that. So what if he's Batman? If we publish the story then we expose him."

"And…?"

He shook his head. "What if it was the Blur? What would you do if you stumbled upon the identity of the Blur?" He paused, careful with his next words. "What if the Blur told you who he was? I mean, who he really is."

"What do you mean? Do you think the Blur has an alter ego? A secret identity?" Lois asked, her words coming out in a rush, Clark's questions triggering a desperation to understand.

Clark tried not to let his emotions betray him. "You mean you don't think that by day he's someone completely different? Like a… banker, or a taxi driver… or something."

"I never really considered it, to be honest."

Clark gave a sheepish shrug. To Lois he was the constantly late, always disappearing mild-mannered reporter. He wanted nothing more than to tell her that he masqueraded at night as the Blur in much the same way as Bruce Wayne lived a dual existence as Batman. His mother encouraged him to come clean, offering to create a costume for him. The idea appealed to him so much that he'd had to stop himself from revealing the truth to Lois on numerous occasions.

"It's only a matter of time."

"What?" Clark asked, Lois' comment grounding him.

"I said it's only a matter of time that the Blur reveals himself to the world," she repeated. "And I want to be the one who writes his story," Lois added with a flourish.

Clark smiled at her tenacity. One day he hoped he could make that request true for her.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Firstly, thank you to the wonderful reviewers. You really were my little muses, helping me along throughout the penning of this story

This chapter was the first chapter I wrote to Lois Lane's Rules of Reporting. Literally the story begun from here. But of course I couldn't start with this chapter. ;-) It was my absolute favourite and I just love how the article turned out. I hope you all do too.

Please be wonderful and post your thoughts on the story in a review. I would be eternally grateful.

* * *

**.::****Rule 7: Put all the good stuff at the beginning****::.**

**I SPENT THE NIGHT WITH SUPERMAN  
**By Lois Lane

They say that when a woman orgasms her brain reacts in much the same way as though she were flying from a cliff. The same rush of endorphins cloud all judgment, literally making one incomprehensible, gasping for air. I imagine it is every man's fantasy to hear that he's orgasmic, that he can successfully push her off the precipice of control causing her to lose all sense of what is rational and safe. It is arguably what nudges the girl next-door toward the mysterious man who lives in the shadows. It's the risk of the unknown; the excitement of flying head first into something unconventional and possibly deadly. Yesterday, I spent the night in the arms of a super man and flew.

For several years the Daily Planet has been reporting on a mysterious blur that'd helped the maligned and the desperate. Criminals quaked in fear of the shadowed figured who'd come to leave only an "S" in his wake. People whispered about his heroism and photographers sought to capture his image. In 2008 a Planet junior photographer, H. James Olsen managed to capture what became known ostensibly as The Blur. While Metropolitans wondered who was behind the red and blue blurred image, he watched us from afar, saving the helpless whenever possible.

We wondered if he was a meteor infected super human. We questioned his motivation and desire for justice. We erroneously challenged Batman to step out of the Gotham City chaos and claim his rightful position in Metropolis. Our government proposed laws to prevent him from clearing our streets of criminals. In all this time we have been fearful of him, proud of him and in awe of him.

It had just been an ordinary night. A moon crescent in the sky; the stars hidden behind a sheen of pollution. I'd forgotten to water my chrysanthemums all week and I'd promised myself that I wouldn't let another potted plant rot away. As I'd walked out on to my terrace I hadn't expected that the chrysanthemums would stay dry for another day.

He came from the sky, resplendent in blue and red highlighted by glimpses of yellow. His red cape flowed around him, the familiar diamond shaped "S" symbol peaking from behind his folded, muscular arms.

"Miss Lane?" He asked; his blue eyes seeming to reflect the lights of the Metropolis skyline. I couldn't muster a reply, my mouth opening and closing like a gasping fish in Crater Lake. He made a half-witted comment about my silence and smiled. Our hero seemed to fancy himself a comedian. Unable (maybe even unwilling?) to glare in response to his comment, I regrettably began with the question I'm sure every woman of Metropolis is feverishly scanning this article to know the answer to:

"Are you… single?"

Upon reflection, it clearly isn't the most journalistically appropriate question to begin with. The Daily Planet has never claimed to be _Entertainment Tonight_ and surely would never stoop to these lows. But there you have it, Metropolis; the first words I uttered to a man who'd saved me countless times. A hero I'd desperately wanted to meet face to face for months, even years.

I can still hear his throaty chuckle like a vibration across my skin. His answer, you see, is kept private and personal to him. If I were to chance a guess I would suspect our blurry demigod's heart is taken. By whom, I suppose, will remain a mystery.

His birth name is Kal-El and he hails from a long forgotten planet named Krypton. Sensing the impending destruction of their planet, his father—against the wishes of the High Council of Krypton- stowed him in to a space craft. Its destination: Earth. Like all parents, Jor-El believed that his son was destined for greatness, hoping the young Kal-El would one day share in the truth of his heritage and fulfill his Kryptonian destiny.

He is not a meteor infected human; by his admission he is in fact an alien from a distant and now destroyed planet. On Krypton the people did not have super powers as their sun inhibited it. It is, Earth that provides our alien friend with his ability to fire heat from his eyes, lift impossibly heavy objects, run faster than a speeding train, leap over the tallest buildings and see through solid objects.

"What colour underwear am I wearing?" I asked, stupidly and unbelieving.

Our hero is a gentleman, having blushed lightly at my question, warning me that he could, in fact, see through my sweatpants and t-shirt. I dared him and he complied.

"Pink," he answered correctly, as my own cheeks coloured to match.

"What else can you do?" I challenged.

"This." He easily pulled me in to his arms, lifting me from my feet. My naked toes met the red leather of his boots as I looked up into his clear blue-green eyes. I clutched his toned arms hidden beneath the blue neoprene, unsure of what he was about to do. "Are you afraid of heights, Miss Lane?"

Just as I was about explain my penchant for finding myself in impossibly colossal situations; my eyes caught the movement of buildings behind my new super friend. You see Metropolis; our blurred crusader also has the ability to fly.

Naturally I clutched on to him, fearful that I'd be dropped, envisioning a certain death by high altitude. You'll recall though, that our super hero is a gentleman.

"Don't be afraid," he chuckled lightly and confidently. "I've got you."

"You've got me?" I questioned, undaunted. "Who's got you?"

"You're nervous," he stated matter-of-factly. When I questioned how he knew, he replied, "For one you're shaking." (It was cold, I contend!) "And secondly, I can hear your heartbeat."

The race of my heart, a vibration he might've been able to feel as we were chest to chest. Yet instead, he _heard_ it.

"Super strength, super flight, super sight and now super hearing?" I said in disbelief. "You really must be some kind of super man."

He laughed, unwilling to comment or too shy to respond. We fell into silence, enjoying the serenity of the Metropolis sky line. Beyond the clouds and high above the buildings a sense of peace overwhelms you. You feel the rush of the wind; hear the ruffle of a super man's cape and you wish to stay forever in that moment, sharing a quickening heartbeat and staring into eyes that seem to look in to your soul.

At some point he must have indicated that the hour was late; I'd vaguely noticed the orange hue of the horizon slowly transforming Metropolis. When my feet finally touched the cold concrete of my terrace I resisted letting go of- what I'd come to learn- his bulletproof shoulders.

He smiled, noticing my reticence. "We should do this again sometime, Miss Lane." My mind raced: was it a question or a statement? Somehow I managed to nod and pulled my hands to my sides.

"Good night," he said softly, as his feet began to lift from the ground.

"Wait!" I called out. "What should I call you?"

"I'm sure you'll find a name." With a smile that sent my heart racing again, he disappeared. Into the clouds and surely beyond the horizon; he promised an expeditious return as truth, justice and the American way depended on it.

A Superman, indeed.

**...:::...**

"Congratulations, Lois. Quite the article!"

"Nice front page, Lane!"

"I guess Perry can officially let you have a desk up on the 10th floor, huh?"

As Lois and Clark crossed through the lower lobby and in to the basement bullpen, voices called out their compliments. Lois' heels clacked against the cold linoleum floor, her stride confident. Clark followed closely behind, seemingly less confident and looking disheveled in comparison to his girlfriend.

"Lois, are we going to talk about… you know…" he motioned with his hands, head bobbing as Lois beelined for the coffee machine.

She paused, pot in one hand, mug in the other. "Coffee?" She asked, ignoring Clark's question.

"No." He replied, frustrated. "We need to talk about the article." He hurried to keep up with Lois as she moved from one corner of the room to the other, grabbing papers from desks and depositing others.

"We will. Any mail for me, Mary?" She directed her question toward the slight girl sorting mail from behind a stacked cart.

"Tons. Mr. White wanted us to send it upstairs. 10th floor?"

"Do you hear that Clark? 10th floor!" Lois exclaimed, smiling in satisfaction as she called the elevator to the basement. She'd waited for this opportunity and understood exactly what a change in desk placement could mean.

"Lois. We need to talk," Clark repeated, adjusting his glasses, his resolve getting weaker by the second as he clutched the very paper that revealed his alter ego to the world.

"Clark, in all honesty I'm still ticked at you for not telling me sooner." The doors to the elevator chimed open. "I mean, really!" Her voice dropped, "an alien… from Krypton?" She paused as the doors closed, leaving them alone for the first time since Clark had read her article. "Furthermore Chloe and Oliver both knew? Unfair, Smallville. Unfair." She crossed her arms, indomitable. "Did you at least _like_ the article?"

Clark's face softened, he'd been so terror-stricken about Lois' reaction to finding out his secret and the subsequent article that'd resulted, he hadn't even commented on her story. "You said flying with me was orgasmic," he remarked, slyly. The corner of his mouth began to twitch as he attempted to control his reaction.

Lois rolled her eyes. "It's called a hook, Smallville. Haven't you learned anything in those years working beside me?"

Clark chuckled and reached across to press the button for the 10th floor. "Honestly, it _is_ a little embarrassing. And… the name! The name's a little dorky, no?"

"What? Superman? You don't like it?"

"It's not that I don't like it…it just seems a little, I dunno… pretentious."

"Trust me. It's sexy, it's mysterious. It's a helluva lot better than the Red-Blue-Blur," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"One question though: Why didn't you write about kryptonite?" When Lois had agreed to write the first article exposing the truth behind the Blur, he'd figured nothing was off limits save for the disclosure of his identity.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, giving him a small smile. "Why on earth would I tell the world about the one thing that could kill you?" He nodded, understanding. It was one of the many reasons he loved Lois Lane. Despite having permission to expose his weaknesses to the world, she chose to edit out that information. Even knowing he possessed super strength, she still felt a need to protect him.

As the elevator opened to the 10th floor, Lois dropped his hand and took a deep breath stepping out in on to the floor of the City News department.

**...:::...**

Earlier in the week, each Planet staffer found an urgently flagged message from their editor, Perry White. From the News desk to Features to Obituaries, each had received an email that could effectively change their respective careers.

From: P. White  
To: All Staff  
Subject: URGENT

Attention Daily Planet Staff:

The Inquisitor has been claiming that they have the first exclusive interview with The Blur. They are supposed to go to print on Friday. Any journalist that has a remote connection to the Blur is hereby asked to submit an article to the City News desk with the possibility of a front page exclusive.

Any submissions are due Wednesday before the print deadline.

Perry White  
Editor-in-Chief  
Daily Planet Press Corp.

Clark had seen the email request before Lois. In typical fashion she had had a phone pressed to one ear, a chewed up pen in her mouth and was shuffling through the mess of papers on her desk. She would not be happy to know that the Inquisitor had scooped her over a Blur story.

The truth, which Clark knew, was that they hadn't. He'd never spoken to anyone aside from Lois over the phone and even those conversations had stopped over the course of the past few months.

"What the hell?" Lois' declaration startled him. She slammed her phone back in to its cradle and glared at her computer screen. "The freaking _Inquisitor_ has an interview with the Blur? How is this even possible?"

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but his attempt was thwarted as she continued, "you'd think that if a super hero trusted you enough to call you that that would mean something. What the hell did I do wrong?" Her words came out in a constant stream; her anger quickly escalating into self-deprecation. "Oh my god, he must not have liked the articles that I wrote about his saves over at the Kaw. Or maybe it was the ones about LexCorp's research into weather manipulation. Do you think he's in the pocket of Luthor Corp? That _would_ explain how the Inquisitor managed to get the interview first."

"Lois, your articles are fine! I'm sure—"

"`Fine' won't get me to the 10th floor, Clark. And it sure as hell lost me an interview with the Blur."

Clark sighed; frustrated for the hundred-thousandth time that he hadn't yet told her the truth. Little did she realize, the Blur loved every single article that she'd written. Every time Clark snuck out of bed in the middle of the night for a save, he secretly wondered what she would write about him. Would she challenge his decision to choose the erupting volcano in Italy over the bank robbery in Topeka? Or commend his rescuing of the convent of nuns from the fire off of Robertson Boulevard?

"I've gotta go," Lois announced, gathering her notepad and cell phone and tossing them into her purse. "I need to track down the Blur and get that damn interview."

"But Lois-"

"I'll talk to you later, Clark. I'll call if I need anything." With a swing of her ponytail she was up the stairs and out the door to the lobby.

Clark closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing his unnecessary black rimmed frames up his nose. He reached for his cell phone and hit the second number on his speed dial.

"Hi Mom. Do you mind if I swing by and pick up that little project we've been talking about?"

**...:::...**

The day had been miserable for Lois. She'd been unable to locate the Blur, had broken her heel in Suicide Slum and was out $20 worth of Pepsi products and donuts in a failed attempt to secure information from Eddie. The last thing she wanted to do was water her plants, but they'd looked a little brown around the edges.

What Lois hadn't revealed to the reading audience of the Daily Planet was that while she had attempted to water her dying flowers, the shock of seeing a caped crusader leap on to her terrace actually sent the watering can flying from her hands, landing in what became a spectacular puddle at her feet.

At first she hadn't recognized Clark standing before her in his suit of blue and red. She'd gotten so used to his glasses that she'd initially been unable to make the connection between the alien visitor who'd leapt on to her 13th floor terrace and her boyfriend of two years. Furthermore, Clark was always so clumsy and unconfident; the man before her stood regal and self-assured.

"Miss Lane?" On later reflection Lois came to realize that Clark had been teasing her. Attempting to use formalities and a deeper voice in an effort to demonstrate the drastic transformation that he'd made. Her heart had leapt in to her throat at the sound of her name; she knew instinctively that it was the Blur. Her eyes traced the contours of his face and she noticed the dark curl of hair that hung across his forehead. If he'd said anything to her, she didn't register the comment; her thoughts had become a swirling mess of nerves and excitement.

"So…Are you single?" The words had spilled out like a giddy teenager meeting her crush for the first time.

"Lois!"

It was then that she realized who stood before her. She'd recognize that familiar admonishment anywhere.

"Clark?" He shrugged, giving her a trepidatious smile and turned the voice modifier off. Lois stared back in shock. "What the f—…"

Before the expletive could even cross her lips, Clark interrupted: "I'm sorry?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but it had.

"You're sorry?" She parroted. He couldn't read her reaction. Was she furious? Surprised? Excited? Confused? Her words came across as a mixed declaration.

While Lois had created a romanticized version of the first meeting between the Daily Planet reporter and the Metropolitan hero for the paper; the reality had been very different.

"Is this a joke?" She asked, doubting what she'd just seen. Clark had, after all, just leapt on to her terrace… hadn't he?

He shook his head. "Not a joke." The words came out slowly, methodically, as though he was afraid that each word would create an independent reaction from Lois.

"You're… the Blur?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

She paused unsure of how to proceed. Part of her wanted to scream at him, chastise him for stringing her along for more than three years. Another part felt relieved. There had been many nights where she'd woken up alone in her bed and wondered where Clark had gone. She'd always have to force herself to believe half-baked excuses about farm emergencies or meetings with sources whose leads never panned out.

"Who are you?" She whispered, scared of the possible answers she might receive. To her, the Blur had been someone unattainable who lived in the shadows, enjoying a life of solitude. Clark was the opposite. He was loving, kind, selfless, generous; he was the type of man that every girl wished she could bring home to their mother. She'd always believed that she could read him like an open book. It scared her to think that the Clark she'd fallen in love with had a hidden, potentially darker side.

"I'm Clark," he said, definitively. "It's who I am. Kal-El is who I was. The Blur is who I became."

"Kal-what?" Lois pressed her hand to her temple, her confusion causing a headache to begin. She reached for her nearby patio chair and took a seat. She had a feeling that she'd need to be off her feet for whatever Clark was about to reveal.

Over the next few minutes Lois listened, silently processing the story of Clark's alien origins. The cloud of confusion began to clear as he explained his many saves and the Blur's accomplishments. He explained to her his powers, the various accidents that had taken place because of them and how his earthly parents had helped and encouraged him to gain control over them.

"Well…?" He asked once he finished. Her silence throughout had been unexpected. Clark had bargained for a barrage of questions, and instead she'd remained quiet. "Did you… did you have any questions?"

"You can see through solid objects?" She asked, almost dazed.

"Yeah. Unless it's lead. I can't see through lead."

"What colour underwear am I wearing?" Her voice curious, yet cautious.

"What?"

"You heard me. What colour underwear am I wearing?"

"Lois, this is ridiculous." She raised her eyebrows expectantly, challenging him to prove his story. "Pink," he said finally, shaking his head.

Her face blushed in embarrassment. It wasn't as though Clark hadn't seen her underwear before- in fact, he'd seen her in much less—it was the confirmation that he could see her underwear _whenever he wanted_. Even on the days where she'd worn her ugly-and-feeling-fat ones.

"Shit!" She exclaimed.

"What?"

"Nothing." Lois shook her head. "What else you got?" She rose to her feet, the confident Daily Planet reporter slowly returning.

"This." Clark grabbed her hand, pulling her near. He lifted her slightly and pulled her close against him. Her feet landed on his new boots, her arms automatically slinked around his shoulders to his neck. "Hold on," he whispered.

Lois could feel a shift in the air; the skyline around her altered. "What the-?"

"Don't be afraid. I've got you," he assured her.

"You've got me? Who's got you?"

Clark chuckled and pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face. "You're nervous. I can feel you shaking."

"It's cold," she said defensively as she watched the buildings beneath her getting smaller. "I thought you were afraid of heights?"

"Your heart's racing."

Lois swallowed a heavy lump that had formed in her throat. "How'd you know?" She croaked.

Clark gave her a small smile. "I can hear your heartbeat."

"You mean you can feel it?" She corrected.

"No, I can _hear_ it."

Lois looked up at him amazed and curious at the same time. Clark took a deep breath and continued, "There were times when I would sneak out in the middle of the night for a save. Hearing your heartbeat…Listening to it… it reminded me of home. It gave me strength."

"Oh Clark…"

Still holding tight to Clark, she began to let her eyes wonder over the skyline of Metropolis. The people below looked like ants, scrambling to get home in the nighttime rush. The golden globe of the Daily Planet shone over the city, turning on its axis.

"Why did you let the Inquisitor interview you?"

"There never was an interview, Lois," he insisted. "I've always wanted you to write my story. There's no better reporter to tell it."

"Clark…"

"It's true, Lois. It's always been you." Lois smiled, recognizing the truth in his voice.

As Clark took her on a tour of Metropolis, he revealed everything to her. He told her of his weaknesses, of his strengths and of his fears for the future… for _their_ future. Lois listened and recognized the difficulty he'd had in maintaining so many secrets and forming so many lies.

"Lois, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just… I don't know. When I would think it was the right time, it never was. And then days became weeks and weeks became months… then years…"

Lois nodded slowly. "I think understand. I don't like it, but I get it."

Eventually the darkness over Metropolis began to fade; the soft light of the morning peeking out from the horizon. When her feet touched the concrete of her terrace, Lois didn't want to let go. Clark had laid himself bare to her that night, it had been the most honest that she'd seen him.

"I should go," Clark said softly with some hesitancy. "You have an article to write if you want to make Perry's print deadline."

Lois smiled. "I know." She let one hand venture toward Clark's face, caressing his cheek. She smiled tenderly. "Thank you, Clark."

He pressed his lips softly against hers. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered as they parted.

She nodded. "I like the costume, by the way. The "S" is a nice touch." She fingered the embroidery.

Clark smiled and looked down at his red and yellow Krytonian symbol. "Thanks. My mom made it for me," he said as he pulled away and began to levitate in mid-air.

Lois chuckled in reply. Of course Mrs. Kent was responsible for such a heroic ensemble.

"I guess I should stop callin' you Smallville, huh?" She called out.

"We should do this again sometime." He smiled and gave her a wink. "Good night, Lois."

"Wait!" He froze in midair at Lois' exclamation. "If I'm writing this article, what should I call you?"

"I'm sure you'll find a name."

**...:::...**

"Superman! It's genius! I love it," exclaimed Perry White, slapping Lois on the back. "Kiddo, you're a real treasure ya know that?"

"Should you be smoking that in here…?" Clark questioned, pointing at the cigar balanced between Perry's fingers. Lois dug her elbow in to Clark's side.

"Who's this kid?" Perry asked, pointing his cigar at the startled reporter giving Clark a quick and knowing wink.

"Clark Kent, sir," said a young red headed boy who'd raced to keep up with Perry's pace throughout the newsroom, handing him papers to sign. "Works in the basement. Does Feature pieces."

"Oh right, the farm boy from Smallville."

Lois chuckled at Perry's description and attempt at masking his connection to Clark. He was certainly staying true to his promise of avoiding the appearance of favouritism. They continued to follow Perry throughout the City News department which was bustling with excitement.

"Listen Lane, that interview was gold. Who knew?" Perry propped his cigar into the corner of his mouth and raised his hands, motioning the words to an invisible headline. "The Red-and-Blue-Blur an alien from outer space! I'm surprised we don't have NASA crawling all over our asses looking for him."

"Thank you?" Lois said, unsure as to how to respond.

"No, it's _I_ that should be thanking _you_, Lane." He paused over an empty cubicle. "The advertising department has practically built a shrine to you down on the 7th floor. And the accounting department? Those number crunchers have called the Vatican looking to get ya sainted. You're a hero 'round here Lane!"

"I… I don't know what to say…" Lois stuttered, looking to Clark for help. He shrugged, awkwardly positioned between the very boisterous Perry and Lois.

"How 'bout Monday morning you move your stuff up here," he patted the ledge of the empty cubicle's wall. "We need some fire on this floor, and I think you're the one to bring it."

"Perry!" Lois exclaimed, her excitement evident. "er… I mean, Mr. White." She smiled looking around her. "I don't know what to say…!"

"First of all, don't call me Mr. White, my father was Mr. White. Only that little red-haired kid what's-his-face calls me that." He stuck out his hand. "Welcome to the team!"

Lois smiled and took his hand, returning his firm shake. "Thank you. You won't be sorry," she promised.

"I hope not." As Perry was about to walk away, he caught Clark's eye. "You guys are kind of a team, aren't you?"

Confused, Clark looked to Lois for support.

"Clark and I are sort of…" Lois struggled for words. They'd never officially declared their work relationship, despite having collaborated together on several articles. "We're kinda… I guess, sort of…"

"He's your partner downstairs?" Perry asked, impatient. Lois nodded. "I like it! Lombard!" A head poked up from a nearby cubicle.

"Sir?"

"Monday, you're back on the 8th floor." Perry motioned toward Clark. "Kent needs your desk." Lombard glared at Clark who nervously pushed at the bridge of his glasses, avoiding eye contact.

"Monday, then?" He looked from Clark to Lois.

"Monday," Lois repeated with certainty; Clark nodded in agreement.

Perry puffed on his cigar and turned to march toward his corner office. "Superman?" He muttered to himself, his excitement still palatable. "It's genius!"

**...:: FIN ::...**


End file.
